


The Walking Dead: Season -6

by TheWalkingDeadNegative



Series: The Walking Dead: Negative [4]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Video Games), The Walking Dead (Web Series)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead Fusion, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Post-Terminus (Walking Dead), Spoilers, The Hilltop, Wolves, no way out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 88,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5536283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingDeadNegative/pseuds/TheWalkingDeadNegative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron and Daryl have went out for the last week looking for new members for the Alexandria Safe-Zone. While Aaron is looking for good, honest people, Daryl is looking for other strong people to help defend the community. On one of their outings they run into a teenage boy named Henry who needs their  help to save a friend of his that has been recently shot. That friend happens to be an old friend/enemy of Daryl's, SHANE WALSH.</p><p>Meanwhile, Rick is working on possibly his most ambitious plan ever: he plans to lure a herd of walkers down twenty miles away from Alexandria. Sheriff Grimes has a rude awakening when he realizes that his childhood friend and the man he thought he murdered years ago finds himself in the Alexandria Safe-Zone. Find out what happens when two timelines collide.</p><p>The Walking Dead: Season -6 will debut on 2/14/2016, immediately following AMC's The Walking Dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Timeline Explained...

 

  
  
  
  
 **The Walking Dead: Negative, Timeline Explanation:** The purpose of this timeline is to help readers understand where AMC's The Walking Dead and the The Walking Dead: Negative's timeline's intersect. It is designed to guide new readers who may or may not have already read The Return of Shane: Vol 1-3.It is encouraged that everyone read The Return of Shane: Vol especially since new characters were added during that series. Contrary to popular belief, time has not really moved quickly in The Walking Dead, mainly because as of **Season 6** , Judith still can't walk or talk. At most, only two years has passed since Lori's death.  
  
  


Essentially all I'm trying to say with this page is:

**PREVIOUSLY ON THE WALKING DEAD.....**

** 2013 **

\--- Events of The Walking Dead, Season **1.**

| - Rick's group escapes the CDC.

|- Events of The Walking Dead, Season **2.**

| - Rick's group meet Hershel and the **Greene Family.**

|

|

| - Episode - **Better Angels** (Shane and Rick face off).

| - Events of **Return Of Shane Vol** **1** (Shane survives).

| --- Shane meets **Phillip** and **Austin Marco.**

| --- Events of **The Walking Dead** , Season **2, Finale** .

| - Events of **Return Of Shane Vol 2** (Shane returns to the Farm).

|--- Events of **The Walking Dead** , Season **3.**

|--- **Lori** gives birth to **Judith** and dies **.**

|--- Events of **Return Of Shane Vol** **3.**

| - Rick's group repel **The Governor** from the prison.

 **2014**

| - Shane's Group meets the **Rockwell Family** at K-Mart.

| --- Events of **The Walking Dead** , Season **4.**

| - The Prison is overrun, Rick's group divides.

| - Rick's group and Abraham's group make it to **Terminus**.

** 2015 **

\--- Events of The Walking Dead, Season **5.**

| - Nancy Rockwell becomes pregnant by Shane. Stu and Jacob are killed.

| - Rick's group meets Aaron.

| - Rick's group arrives at Alexandria.

| - Rick kills Pete and is reunites with Morgan.

|- Austin and Nancy are both killed, Phillip is now the de facto leader.

| - Shane is shot by Saviors.

| - Events of The Walking Dead, Season **-6** / Events of The Walking Dead, Season **6 <<<You are ****HERE**

****

 


	2. The Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the Episode "From Start, To Finish"

The Prologue

"Tiptoe Through The Window"  
  
  


 **Rick** had thought a lot about Lori since moving to Alexandria. The large, colonial-style, row homes reminded Rick of the time he and Lori had travelled to Maryland. It was the first time the two youngsters had gone on a road trip alone. One thing that stuck out to Rick was how noticeably grayer things were up north. But it wasn't just the terrain that reminded Rick of his time with Lori—it was Jessie.

Lori and Jessie had very little in common; Lori was a waiflike brunette, and Jessie a more robust blonde. The one thing they both had in common was that they both were damsels in distress. Rick didn't know what it was that drew him to Jessie and her world. He claimed he wanted to end the domestic abuse Jessie had endured from her heinous husband, Pete. But subconsciously, Rick was trying his best to resolve his issues with Lori. Shane's presence didn't help matters, either.

Rick was already covered by the poncho made of bedsheets, which was in turn covered in the viscera of the dead. The stench of the dead was repelling; the sulfur-ridden fumes filled the air of the small home. The walkers were held at bay by a sofa that acted as a barrier between the living and the dead. Rick knew that it was only a matter of time before they would all be as dead as Deanna.

Rick left the boys, Father Gabriel, Michonne, and Jessie to go collect Judith. But then it hit him again—Judith was missing. Carol had left the child with Jessie. However, during the confusion, Judith had been abducted. Rick had his suspicions, but at the moment he needed to focus on the task at hand. The dead had flooded into the safe-zone, and if Rick didn't move fast, finding Judith would be the least of his concerns.

"Alright then, it's time." Rick said to the group.

Covered by the entrails of the zombies, the group would walk among them. This camouflage had been used by Rick before; he knew that if everyone did everything right, they could make it safely to the armory. There was no other option; it was only a matter of time before the sofa would no longer be enough to keep the dead out. They could not hide anymore. There was no other way out.

Hands locked, the group slipped effortlessly past the dead after Rick collected his daughter. Rick's blue eyes dilated when the group made it to the porch. The streets, once secured and safe, were now overrun by walkers. Rick did not have the luxury of gawking at the sight of the undead. He quickly clasped Carl's hand, who held Jessie's, who held Sam's.

As the group slithered through the dead, a small, meek voice could be heard.

"Mom..."

"Mom..." called out Sam, as the snarling voices of the dead increased.

"Mom."

"Mom!" the boy called out, louder, more assertive. Within moments, the walkers grabbed Sam, descending on the boy viciously.

Jessie tried her best to save her son but was also overwhelmed. Even with walkers pouring over them, she held Carl's hand. Rick turned to see the dead feasting upon Sam, and then Jessie, but the sheriff's eyes focused on Jessie's death grip on her son. Carl! Rick thought before quickly removing the hatchet that sat at his waist.

Crack!

Rick slammed the blade of the hatchet on Jessie's wrist—once, twice, finally slicing through the bone on the third strike. Rick turned back to see Jessie engulfed by walkers; sweat and grit began to blur the sheriff's eyes. Jessie's face turned into Lori's and the officer said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't—leave—us!" cried Jessie, in the guise of Lori, as the dead consumed her and her son.


	3. Timeline Explained...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A twist a fate...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

## Episode 1 Part One

 

**The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode One: Wolves At The Gate  
Part 1: "Homeless"

**"dolor hic tibi proderit olim"**  
"Someday this pain will be useful to you."

**Three days earlier...**

**The** sun burned hot over Alexandria, Virginia today. Historically, Alexandria was one of the first stops for many American slaves during the 1800's as the South tried to reclaim parts of the District of Columbia. Decades had passed since then, wars had begun and ended, and slowly it had evolved into a town that was home to many politicians, as well as those who wanted to live close to but not in the muck of Washington, DC. But Aaron had really enjoyed the muck of DC.

When Aaron had moved from Montgomery County, Maryland, a small, primarily Irish area, to DC, it was against his mother's wishes. Aaron H. Gale had become heavily involved in politics in his youth; he had been outraged at how the system was rigged against disenfranchised people. A fire had been lit in Aaron's stomach, and after obtaining his Bachelor's at Virginia Commonwealth University, he signed up for the Peace Corps.

Aaron had always been a good man, honest and moral all the way to his core. It made total sense for him to gravitate towards the like-minded Daryl Dixon. Daryl, his face caked with grime and his hair damp from sweat, was a stark contrast to the heavily-manicured Aaron. But underneath, both Daryl and Aaron shared a belief in human goodness.

The two men were out looking for new recruits for their developing community of survivors. Daryl was led by his crossbow but followed by Aaron. Smut smeared Daryl's bearded face. His torso was covered with an open, leather vest, layered with a dark, form fitting vest. He matched it with his dirty, tattered jeans and dark leather boots. Aaron was far more kempt in comparison; he wore a dark mauve flannel, and tucked-in dark linen pants with a matching belt. Aaron kept his right hand gripped on the handle of his machete as the two men walked through the Virginian woods.

"You know what I miss?" began Aaron, and before Daryl could answer, Aaron answered. "Ice cream. I know Olivia attempts to create an ice-cream-esque concoction, but it's just not the same. I don't want to be rude, but it tastes nothing like ice cream."

"Good thing we're way the hell out here," Daryl added. "I doubt she can hear us."

"But it's those little things, you know. Ice cream, pizza, steak au poivre with a side of albino asparagus—you know, the little things."

Daryl was the kind of man that had eaten possum burgers and roasted roadkill, even before the outbreak, so the delicacies like "steak au poivre" were as foreign as their names to Daryl. "If we're lucky, we'll be able to get a rabbit or something. You hungry?"

"A little bit," confessed Aaron.

Their midday stroll was broken when a scream echoed through the tranquility of the day. Aaron quickly looked around, doing his best to locate the sound of the scream. It was masculine, but youthful in nature. The screams were consistent, as if a boy were struggling.

"Get back! Get the fuck back!" screamed the youthful, male voice.

"You hear that?" Aaron asked Daryl, his machete prepared to attack.

"Yeah, I did," Daryl said as he scanned the field, trying his best to trace the location of the cries. "This way!"

The two men darted in a northwestern direction. One of elements of a good tracker was excellent hearing, and Daryl's ears were just as acute as his eyes, so he was able to isolate the cries well enough to locate the voice. Daryl and Aaron were shocked when they finally located the screamer.

The figure was tall and lean, and covered from head to toe in full, SWAT, tactical gear, complete with ski mask, helmet, and goggles. The gear was dark blue and in block, white font, it said "Burke County" on the figure's back. Aaron couldn't really admire the gear because the figure was surrounded by walkers, roughly ten.

"Whoa!" Aaron said after stumbling upon the scene.

With Daryl's left hand, he prevented Aaron from approaching any further. "Shhhhh..." the archer requested. Daryl aimed his bow carefully, but before he could fire, he was distracted by how well the SWAT fighter was doing. Even though he was surrounded and screaming, he managed to use his machete in such an impressive fashion. The young man was fighting for his life, and if it was going to be snuffed out today, he would take as many walkers down with him as he could.

Dixon's distraction came to an end when he heard another desperate cry from the young man. Daryl fired his bow and the bolt embedded itself in the brain of the walker. He fired another bolt and it met its target with ease. Aaron joined in the fight, slamming his blade into the brain of an incoming walker. Aaron delivered a hefty kick before beheading another oncoming walker. The three men went to work, hacking and braining the remaining walkers. When they were done, the bodies of the dead sat at their feet.

"Man, I thought I was a goner, for sure," the youthful male said.

"You got a name?" Dixon asked, sizing up the figure by the blue of his eyes.

"Oh, wait one second." The figure removed his headgear, exposing an extremely youthful face. Though the boy was all of six feet tall, his face looked no older than Carl's. His boyish face was a stark contrast to his adult-like height, but it matched his adolescent voice. He had a pale complexion and chestnut-brown, boyish curls that surrounded his crown. Small, pink freckles spotted the rosiness of his cheeks.

With a labored breath, the boy answered, "I'm Henry Rockwell. Thanks for helping me; I've never fought that many on my own before."

"Nothing we're not used to," replied Aaron. He inspected the boys gear and became naturally curious. "I take it you aren't a police officer."

"Are you kidding?" replied a smiling Henry. "I'm only fourteen."

"A **big** fourteen," replied Daryl, still suspicious of the kid.

"I'm serious. I used to attend Our Lady of Malibu School," confessed the boy.

"What the fuck is that, some kinda college?" asked Daryl, still somewhat hostile.

"Bro, it's K through eight," answered Henry. He could sense the unfriendly energy permeating off Daryl. But Henry was in a bind and he would need more help from these strangers. "I really need your help."

"Ain't we help you enough?" asked Daryl, still agitated. Aaron noticed his friend was very hostile towards Henry and was unsure why. Aaron was good at defusing situations though, so he stepped in.

"He's Daryl and I'm Aaron. Are you still in trouble? I think we got all the walkers."

"You call them walkers, too?" Henry was surprised that they had the same nickname for the zombies as he did. The moniker "walker" had originated from his friends he'd met on the road. At first he'd called them "freaks," but he liked the name "walkers."

"What? Yeah, the dead. Daryl's people call them walkers; I guess the name just fits," Aaron said. "So you said you needed more help—what's going on? Where is your family?"

"They're dead," answered Henry, his voice low and somber. "My mom died a year ago, Dad died three months ago, and my sister, Nancy—she got killed along with our group leader, Austin. Now it's just me and my two friends. One of them got shot; he's bleeding pretty badly right now. My other friend, Phillip, he's out here looking for a place for us to do surgery. Apparently there was supposed to be a hospital close to here."

"Do surgery?" Aaron was wondering how this teenage boy was planning on assisting with an operation.

"Yeah, Phillip's husband was a surgeon," Henry said through isolated pants. "And Phillip is really good with combat trauma, being former military."

"Phillip's husband?" Daryl asked, not sure if he heard correctly.

"Yeah, they were gay, or are gay. But not like any gay guys you know."

"What does that mean?" Aaron said, now curious to meet other gays. Since moving to Alexandria, the only other gays he knew were Denise and Eric. Having another queer mind in the neighborhood could be just what the safe-zone needed.

"Well, Phillip's a badass. And so was Austin; he was the best. So where's the closest hospital?"

"Yeah, there was Inova Hospital, but it's way too infested with the dead," replied Aaron. "Where are your other friends?"

"Phillip's somewhere close; he said there was an urgent-care clinic walking distance from here." Henry tried his best to recall where his bleeding friend was. "It's back this way, just a ten-minute walk, probably a three-minute run."

"Where you taking us?" Daryl had not yet lowered his crossbow; something didn't sit well with him about this entire situation.

"Phillip is ex-military. He has a Humvee. It's black and enormous, you can't miss it. We gotta go now. Phillip told me not to leave him."

"Leave who?" Aaron was getting confused by Henry's use of pronouns. Aaron could sense the child's desperation. Aaron didn't hold as jaded a belief in human beings as Daryl, so he was open to helping the youth. "Look, we can help you, but you gotta tell us everything."

"It's just me and two of my friends. We've been riding together about twenty months. One is bleeding out. He was still conscious before I went out looking for Phillip. Phillip said he wouldn't go too far away. I mean you can't miss him, he's dressed like a friggin' Power Ranger." Henry, though a California native, had begun to pick up Austin's and Phillip's New York lexicon. They were, after all, the leaders, and Henry had looked up to both men.

*******

**Phillip** was broken. Everything that he'd fought for and everything he believed in was gone. Virginia was a bust—the large, walled, Honeycutt Estates were breached and had been for months. Worst of all, Phillip's mother and his son, Cameron, were both dead. If that wasn't enough tragedy, Phillip had lost Austin as well.

Phillip's eyes narrowed as he looked deeply at the barrel of his silver, magnum pistol. He entertained the idea of sliding the cool, steel barrel in his mouth and ending this eternal hell. Phillip had been able to survive and endure this hellish world as long as Austin had been with him. But now the former airman was alone.

He had spent the last two years pretending the world had not ended, and rather was on an extended pause. But the reality was the world had died a long time ago, and he was just now getting the memo. His jet-black hair had grown beyond his shoulders and now flowed down his back in twenty-two inches of waves.  The wind caused strands of it to dance in the wind as the man contemplated ending his life.

He had made his decision. He was going to do it. The soldier decided to put the gun to his right temple. The honey-skinned man closed his hazel eyes and placed his right finger on the trigger.

"What, you a coward, now?" asked a voice. When Phillip opened his eyes, Austin had appeared before him. His husband stood before him, healthy, smiling, and alive. He wasn't the Austin Phillip had become accustomed to, but the Austin he had known before. He wasn't wearing his ATLAS combat uniform. Instead, he wore a long-sleeved, form-fitting, dark sweater and matched it with dark jeans.

"You're not real," Phillip concluded before closing his eyes.

"That's a deflection," the Phantom Austin replied. "It's a really good one too. I asked you, are you a coward now? Never took you for a bitch."

"You didn't know me that well, obviously," confessed Phillip. His finger tightened around the trigger, but not enough to discharge the weapon.

"Clearly you didn't think I knew you," added Austin. "Remember, I'm just a figment of your imagination. A manifestation of your grief. Just a projection in that devilishly handsome head of yours. It would be a shame if you blew it apart."

"This isn't a joke, Austin," retorted Phillip, his eyes still shut.

"This isn't a game either," countered the apparition. "You take yourself out, you're not going to re-spawn like in Call of Duty. Hell, I should know."

"I can't do this anymore," declared Phillip. "I can't smile and pretend that everything is peachy-fucking-keen. It's not. Nothing's right. It hasn't been for a long time. I've just been pretending."

Austin sat beside Phillip, who still had his gun pressed against his temple, tears streaming down his face. "Don't forget your promise."

In the distance a scream echoed. The noise snapped Phillip out of his brief psychosis. When he opened his eyes, Austin was gone and the gun was still pressed against his face. Phillip knew what a "rich hallucination" was but he still **chose** to believe that Austin was talking to him from the great beyond.

He wouldn't abandon his promise. After Austin was bitten, he made Phillip promise that no matter what happened, he wouldn't allow anyone else to die. It was a ludicrous request; people were bound to die. But Phillip still promised Austin that no more of **their** people would. Another scream rang out, and Phillip immediately stood and sprinted in the direction of the cries.

He tore through the Virginia forest, leaping over rocks and other obstructions, only slowing down when he discovered Henry, surrounded by Daryl and Aaron. The three struggled to fight a cluster of seventeen walkers. They had their backs to one another, preventing the snarling dead from overwhelming them and sneaking up from behind.

The warrior in Phillip was broken. He had lost his son, his husband, and his mother all in one day. But he had promised Austin no one else would die. Phillip may have been many things, but a liar wasn't one of them. He narrowed his hazel eyes with a burning intensity and let out a shrieking, high-pitched whistle that caught the attention of some of the walkers.

Phillip quickly retrieved his bowie knives. Preferring an up-close-and-personal kill, he went to work, slashing, ripping, and tearing. Phillip used both twelve-inched, crescent-shaped blades to lance through the bone, penetrating the brains of the walkers. Before they could overwhelm him, he used his advanced hand-to-hand combat to keep them at bay.

Aaron watched for a second, in awe, as Phillip made defeating such an amount of walkers appear to be easy. "Whatchudoin', daydreaming?" asked Daryl, who refocused Aaron before ramming his hunting knife into the brain of an oncoming walker.

"Phillip!" exclaimed Henry, happily.

But Phillip was in a trance, with only one more walker left. Phillip rained down an ocean of punches, his fists mercilessly colliding against the face of the zombie. He released his rage, his utter disgust of these creatures, before finishing the zombie with a thunderous, round-house kick to the head. The force of the kick beheaded the walker, sending his head flying many yards out of the survivor's views.

Aaron and Daryl scanned Phillip from afar. They noticed the combat uniform, a dark navy color, adorned with knee and elbow pads and a small arsenal of knives and hand guns. It was different from Henry's SWAT uniform in every way. Aaron concluded he had to be military.

"Where is Shane?" Phillip finally asked Henry, ignoring Aaron's and Daryl's presence.

"He's still in the PYTHON," answered Henry.

"And you left him alone?" Phillip replied, agitation peppering his words.

"I had to look for you; it been more than ten minutes. Anything could have happened to you. I didn't know what to do next."

"You could have been killed out here!" Phillip was now incensed.

"Hey, lay off," Daryl said, defending Henry. The archer wasn't sure how he felt about Phillip, but there was a heat in his belly that had appeared the moment he'd laid eyes on the soldier.

Phillip locked his eyes with the blue of Daryl's and said, still speaking only to Henry, "Who the hell is this?"

"It's Aaron and Daryl; they're really good men. They helped me out when I got surrounded by those things."

"You've known them what, ten minutes? How do you know they're good men?"

"Better than you, leaving your people like that," Daryl chastised. "Leaving some kid to fend for himself."

"Look here, Deliverance," Phillip quipped, "when I ask for your opinion—wait, I won't **ever** ask your opinion. Which one are you, anyway?"

"The hell you call me?!" Daryl challenged.

"That's Daryl," Aaron said. His voice was cool as he attempted to resolve the situation.  He could see the heat rising between Daryl and Phillip already. "I hear you have a wounded friend. We have a community and a doctor."

Daryl cut his eyes at Aaron. He was surprised that Aaron was so forthright with all this sensitive information. Without even really reading the situation, Aaron had immediately blurted out the existence of Alexandria. Aaron could read Daryl's eyes and could tell his friend was infuriated, even though he stood there mutely.

"How far from here?" asked Phillip, his brow softening at the sound of the good news.

"Maybe 30 minutes," said Aaron. "We have a vehicle. We can get you there."

Phillip's body language relaxed; Aaron could sense that as well. "We have a vehicle, too. We can follow you."

"Fine, then," Aaron said. "But we have to check out your vehicle, make sure you don't have an army of men that are going to pour out of your car."

"Like in Troy?" asked Phillip, his right eyebrow arching as he studied Aaron's face.

Aaron noticed the intensity of Phillip's stare, but it didn't appear hostile in nature, just intense. "Exactly," replied Aaron.

Phillip and Henry led the way back to the PYTHON. This worked for Daryl because he had a few words for Aaron. "Are you fucking crazy?" Daryl asked. "We don't know anything about these guys and you're just gonna bring them back?"

"It's one guy and a kid, Daryl."

"He ain't no kid. Little asshole's taller than me," remarked Daryl. "And don't let me get started with GI-Jackass over there."

"We're offering to help them, not let them stay," added Aaron. "I thought you still believed in people, Daryl?"

"I believe in them alright," Daryl countered. "Whether or not I trust them is another question."

"They seem desperate, like how your people were," Aaron countered. "I saw you, Rick, and the others out there. I couldn't just leave you, and I can't just leave them." Daryl's face tightened. Aaron was right. It wasn't in Aaron to turn down people in need, nor was it truly in Daryl.

"Mamma Lucia," Aaron said in awe when the men made it to the PYTHON. Aaron, having been a resident of DC, had encountered many military-style vehicles, but none like the PYTHON. And for good reason: The PYTHON was a prototype. The length of the vessel was over twenty feet, and its width was thirteen and a half feet. The black vehicle was reinforced with steel plates that made the it nearly indestructible. Daryl and Aaron didn't know the measurements, but they could tell it was enormous in size.

Each car door had a matching button panel with grey and red buttons. The contrast of the buttons stuck out to Aaron, who was very curious about the entire vessel. Daryl, however, became even more suspicious. Something was not right here.

"We gotta hurry; I didn't have time to plug the wound," declared Phillip. "If we can get to your place quick enough, we may be alright." Phillip quickly entered the entry code once he reached the button panel. The right-back door opened and two blue jeaned legs were visible to Aaron and Daryl, who both stood a few yards away. Though Aaron believed in helping people, Daryl's words hit close to home. You can't trust everyone.

"Shane, are you ok?" Henry asked desperately.

"I'm fucking shot, man. You tell me," the voice replied.

No way, Daryl thought.

"Let me check on that wound," Phillip asked. "Listen for a sucking sound, Henry." As Phillip attempted to inspect and attend to Shane's chest wound, Daryl moved in for a closer look.

"Shit!" was the only word he could articulate once he got a full view.

The darkness of Shane's eyes expanded when he finally saw Dixon. First, he began to chuckle, which made him cough up a clot of blood. A small scar was visible on the right side of his temple where Carl's bullet had skidded off his face. Shane kept his hair low, but had grown a thin, five o'clock shadow that was peppered with iron hairs. His face still remained somewhat youthful, and his skin retained its olive glow.

"Well shit, man. I must have died and already went to hell if Daryl-Fucking-Dixon is in front of me," the former sheriff finally said.

"Do you know this man?" Aaron asked, astonished that this stranger knew Daryl on a first and last-name basis.

Daryl had no other words to say. He knew that this entire thing, from Henry to Phillip and now Shane, was bigger than him. That all of **this** was connected to the tail of a dragon that was ready to devour them all. And now Aaron wanted to take Shane Walsh, of all people, back to Alexandria where Rick was basically the legal authority. This was going to end poorly.

Breathless, Daryl only replied with one word: "Shane..."

*******

**Daryl** was known to be tardy, but usually timely. So it surprised Rick that neither he nor had Aaron shown up at this point. It had been two nights since Rick had killed Pete, and Alexandria was still abuzz. Deanna became more sullen as she collapsed into herself due to the grief of losing her husband. And Rick had become even colder. Pete's death wasn't justice. It had just needed to be done.

Rick hadn't gained any satisfaction from ending Pete, and with Morgan's influence, he had become more self-reflective. Rick wasn't sure if he liked the man in the mirror, but he knew that man—no matter how dark—was needed. Only Carl could ever reach Rick when he was in this dark place.

Rick had already told his inner-circle about the quarry filled with walkers. He'd decided he would tell the rest of Alexandria at this meeting. Rick had made Daryl swear to secrecy, and had made note of how close Daryl had grown to Eric and Aaron. Rick didn't want Daryl to reveal anything to them, and Daryl had reluctantly agreed.

Things had grown colder between Daryl and Rick as of late. There'd been a time when Daryl and Rick couldn't have been closer. But while Rick had become colder and more hostile towards strangers, Daryl had become the opposite. The people of Alexandria had begun to grow on him, and it was now home for Daryl—the best home he had ever known, and he would die to defend it. Rick knew this, so he was surprised to see that Daryl and Aaron were not present for the meeting.

While people thought they were meeting to discuss the death of Pete, Rick was preparing to deliver far more relevant news. Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Abraham, Carol and Carl all sat in the meeting-house, waiting for Daryl to arrive. Rick decided to break the ice, because the silence was beginning to bother him.

"Anyone know where Daryl and Aaron were headed?" asked the Sheriff.

"Further south," replied Michonne. "I heard they were going to check out Mount Vernon."

"You think they ran into any trouble?" added a worried Carol. She did her best to mask her concern, but her closeness to Daryl was known by the group.

"Walkers get pretty thick down there," Abraham added. "Especially with those dead sons of bitches piling into that quarry."

"As of right now, they're just late. Maybe they needed to make a detour. We don't start worrying until it's been some hours. After the meeting, if Daryl and Aaron are still not here... Glenn and Maggie, can you make a quick run south just to check it out?"

Usually when Rick made those sort of requests, they were actually orders. The young couple looked at each other nervously. Maggie had yet to reveal that she was pregnant and Glenn, already very protective, wanted Maggie to sit out all missions during the duration of her pregnancy. Maggie debated telling the others, but in light of the current situation she elected to keep this information close to her chest.

"Not a good idea, Rick," interjected Glenn. "I'll go, but I'd better take Abraham, or maybe even Sasha."

Rick narrowed his eyes at Glenn, mutely inspecting his rationale. Through the window he could see the people of Alexandria beginning to file into the meeting house. "Fine, we'll figure something out. We gotta keep quiet about this. No point in raising suspicion, especially if there is nothing to worry about."

But there was plenty to worry about...

*******

**Shane** was hallucinating, which was common for those who have lost copious amounts of blood. Phillip was matching the speed of the small, green Taurus that Aaron and Daryl traveled in. He knew where the city of Alexandria was. In fact, he used to have a small apartment in Washington, DC. He only prayed that Shane could hold on long enough for them to get to this doctor in the safe-zone.

"Remember that time in college we both got hand jobs from Beatrix Mendes?" a bleeding Shane asked Phillip.

"One word Shane: Eww," replied Phillip.

"Come on, Rick, you remember Bea, don't you?" said Shane before breaking into another small chuckle. "She had that tight little ass with one gray eye and one green one. I used to say: 'Here's looking at you, kid,' when she left the room. Come on man, you remember."

Shane's mental orientation was slowly deteriorating. Though he was looking at Phillip from the passenger's seat, only memories of Rick remained in his head. Perhaps it was seeing Dixon that had jogged his memory. It had been over a year since Shane had even spoken Rick's name to Phillip. Delirium had set in and Shane was confusing his two best friends with each other.

"Henry, come check this wound," Phillip said, his eyes still on the road. The teen complied. The packed gauze was slowing the bleeding but it wasn't a permanent fix.

"What was you thinking back there?" Daryl barked at Aaron.

Aaron's eyes were locked on the open road. They were only a few miles from the safe-zone. "Daryl, they needed help. Who is that guy? He knew your first and last name, and don't tell me you were just Facebook friends."

Daryl had never had a Facebook. "Yeah, I know him alright, I know him well enough not to take him back to Rick."

"So we should have let him die? Is that what you're saying?"

Daryl was silent. The false choice Aaron provided of letting Shane die was a strong counter. Even without Aaron's influence, Dixon most likely would have done the same thing. Daryl was just unleashing his frustration on Aaron because he knew Rick would do the same to him.

"This guy, Shane. Is he bad news?"

"I guess it depends on how you look at it. Shane is very 'black and white,' but he is also dangerous, impulsive, and there is no controlling him."

"Did you know him before all of this?"

"No," replied Daryl. "Rick did though; they've known each other since they were kids."

Aaron was confused, "Then why would Rick be upset with us helping him?"

"Shane tried to kill Rick."

"Holy shit!" Aaron exclaimed, which was unlike him. He rarely ever used profanity, and surely never yelled when he did. "He tried to murder you guys."

"Not us," clarified Dixon, "Just Rick."

"Why?"

Daryl was quiet; he wasn't exactly sure how to explain to Aaron all the details. How would Daryl explain that Rick's dead wife, Lori, was sexually involved with Shane? Moreover, Judith was most likely the offspring of Shane and Lori. Rick had never gone into detail about what had happened between him and Shane, but Carol and Daryl had privately speculated about it.

"I can't tell you," confessed Daryl, his eye contact absent.

"Why?" replied Aaron.

"It's family business."

Aaron felt close to Daryl, but with this one statement, he was reminded that there were closets that not even he could open when it came to Daryl. Daryl's group meant the world to him, and he would protect them with his life. This included their secrets. He decided not to push any further and just accepted Dixon's answer.

*******

**Rick** stood in front of the people of Alexandria and made his case. He didn't minimize the threat or the need to act now. Rick knew the only way that this would work was if they worked together, minus Father Gabriel, of course. Rick wanted this done right, and anything involving the treacherous reverend was doomed to fail.

"I know you are all scared; I am too." Rick began to speechify. "But if we come together, we can keep this community safe."

In the distance, Rick could hear the roar of an engine as the PYTHON plowed through the streets of the Alexandria Safe-Zone.

Phillip didn't have time to be shy, and immediately parked in front of the infirmary. Aaron directed Phillip inside as Daryl split to find Rick.

Phillip and Henry carried Shane, both males grabbing a leg and an arm to get him inside. Denise sat quietly, reading Gray's Anatomy as Phillip, Henry, Shane, and Aaron barged through the door.

"Umm, hello?" she asked nervously.

"Are you the doctor?" Phillip asked frantically.

Denise looked at Shane, who was now unconscious, then looked at the poorly-packed bullet wound in his chest. Denise became nauseous. She always had been squeamish at the site of blood, which was why she became a psychiatrist. "Umm, what happened to him?"

"He was shot by some assholes on bikes," Henry replied. "We tried to stop the bleeding, but it hasn't worked."

Denise nervously approached the unconscious Walsh, and Phillip could sense her apprehension. It annoyed him. "He won't bite, but I'm sure if you wait any longer, he just might." Phillip was hostile with his approach. "Aren't you a physician?"

"I'm a psychiatrist," confessed Denise. "I'm not used to all this—blood."

Phillip frowned in disgust. "Ugh, get the fuck out of my way, then." The soldier immediately stepped in front of Denise after dismissing her as useless. "Ok, what to do first? What to do first?" His tone was frantic as he spun through the medical rolodex in his mind.

"He's bleeding to death?" Phantom Austin said. Though only visible to Phillip, the recently-deceased soldier appeared behind Denise.

"No shit!" replied Phillip to Austin, but due to his vantage point, Denise thought he was talking to her. "Aren't you a fucking Doctor? Don't just stand there—tell me what to do!"

"I'm trying to help your friend, but you're not letting me," Denise retorted.

"Ignore her," Austin added.

"I am," replied Phillip. "I need your help."

Phantom Austin got closer to Shane's lifeless body. "Hmm, remove the gauze. You didn't insert it correctly. It's going to get bloody, so prepare yourself."

As Phillip removed the poorly packed gauze, Shane let out horrifying scream. Blood gushed violently from the wound, splattering against Phillip's face as he leaned in for a closer look. "Hold him!" Phillip demanded.

Phillip and Henry did their best to contain the screaming Shane. "Fuuuuuuuuccck!!!" cried Shane in agony.

"We're hurting him!" Henry said through shallow tears. "We're hurting him."

"Oh, stop being a pussy," Phantom Austin said to Henry, but only Phillip could see the exchange. "Tell him to calm down, Phillip. He never did listen to me."

"Henry, I need you calm, ok?" pleaded Phillip. "He's screaming; I get it, it's scary. But screaming is good. Screaming means he's still alive. We have to stay focused. I cannot do this without you. Do you have my back?"

"Obvi. Let's do this, then," Henry replied.

Austin continued to help Phillip as he and Henry began to work on Shane's wound. In his head, Phillip felt like Austin was helping him through this procedure, but he was really just working from his memory. Besides, everything he knew about medicine, he'd learned from Austin anyway.

As Rick was taking questions from the audience, Daryl darted into the meeting house. When he entered, Rick's eyes immediately darted to Daryl. He was relieved there would be no need for the search party. But the officer could tell by the sternness of Daryl's eyes that whatever news he had wasn't good.

Daryl interrupted an Alexandrian's question to whisper in Rick's ear, "It's Shane."

"What did you say?" Rick said aloud, too shocked to whisper.

"We found Shane, man. He's alive."

"Where? Where is he?"

"Infirmary; He got shot."

Enraged, Rick grabbed his revolver and began to march over to the infirmary. The people of Alexandria could sense Rick's rage that they had caught a glimpse of during the fight with Pete. Tailing Rick, Michonne, Carl, Daryl and Abraham followed. Glenn and Maggie decided to stay with the Alexandrians. Whatever had gotten Rick's goat, they were sure they would be filled in.

As Phillip finished clearing the wound in Shane's chest, he kept his hazel eyes on the hemodynamics, respiratory, and cardiac monitors. Shane had lost a significant amount of blood, and he could easily go into cardiac arrest. Denise watched Phillip from the sidelines. Whoever he was, he had a substantial medical background. She was impressed that one man and a teenage boy had actually been able to stabilize a patient with that kind of ballistic trauma.

Phillip was hypnotized by the peeps of the monitors and the rising and falling of Shane's chest. However, that trance was snapped when Rick Grimes stormed into the room. Rick quickly scanned the room, and Phillip and Henry were the first people he noticed, but his eyes eventually found the unconscious Shane Walsh. Reflexively, Rick pointed his revolver at Shane in an aggressive manner.

"Whoa, bro, what's your problem?" replied Henry, putting both hands up.

Phillip knew there were people behind him, but he was too focused on Shane's vitals to care. He noticed Shane's blood pressure was beginning to drop. Shane had lost too much blood; he now required a transfusion. In a low whisper, Phillip said aloud, "His blood pressure is tanking."

"Who brought him here, huh? Who are you people?" Rick barked angrily.

"Just put down the gun, man. We're just trying to help our friend." Henry was nervous—Rick appeared deranged. Rick's eyes were sharpened by the grimace on his face.

"Why is he still alive!" Rick barked again. "Who are you people?!"

Carl could sense his father's rage building beneath his skin. Carl had never known all the details of why Shane and Rick were at odds. He still believed it was all due to Shane's desire to be the group leader. Rick had conveniently glossed over the "Lori/Judith" part of the falling-out.  Even though Carl had had to "put down" Shane, the boy had never developed a hostility towards Shane. He was however, perplexed as to how the man was still alive.

Carl did not always understand his father. Rick was ready to move The Governor into the prison with him; but Shane, a man whom Rick had loved like a brother, Rick was ready to shoot on sight. It didn't make sense to Carl; he sensed that there was a secret that everyone knew besides him. What Carl didn't understand was no matter how close Shane had been to Rick before, he had crossed a line he could never return from. Long before Rick actually dove his blade into Shane's chest, Shane had been dead to him.

As Rick continued to woof out threats and wave his revolver, Phillip became all the more agitated. Phillip knew exactly who Rick Grimes was, and he knew that coming to Alexandria was a risky move. But in moments of desperation, humans are known to make errors. Even a cunning soldier like Phillip wasn't immune to human error, but Phillip certainly wasn't one to just give up.

Shane was about to die, unless Phillip could come up with something quickly. "I don't have time for this horseshit!" Phillip said angrily under his breath. He quickly spun around, both Berettas in hand, his right arm crossing his left but all pointing in Rick's direction.

The two men stood there for only a moment, but it felt like a year. Neither man fired; they were glued in a Mexican-Standoff-Stalemate.  Rick inspected Phillip's eyes; he could see the intensity in the man's face. Blood was caked on Phillips face, and strands of dark, curly hair were barely obscuring his eyes. Rick was somewhat perplexed by the particular angle at which Phillip held his weapons.

With a small chuckle, Sheriff Grimes said, "What, you plan on shooting me with both of those?"

Phillip's eyes narrowed and his voice darkened into a hiss, "That's not where the **left** one's pointed, asshole."

"Dad..." Carl called out to his father, and that's when the angle of the guns finally made sense.

"One move and I fire this into his kidney—and based off the shit show of a hospital you have here, he won't survive."

"You ain't got enough bullets," dismissed Rick.

While Rick was distracted by Phillip, Henry retrieved the dark steel M-16 that was hidden beside the hospital bed. "Wanna bet?" replied Henry, pointing the gun at the crowd. It was Shane's gun; had he been conscious, he would have appreciated the symbolism.

Michonne instinctively grabbed the handle of her sword while both Daryl and Abraham retrieved their hand guns and pointed them directly at Phillip, Shane and Henry. Everyone had drawn, but no one dared to fire; the opposing groups were glued in a cold war. But Phillip, the perpetual shit-starter, decided to turn up the heat.

"As you can see by my not-so-lovely appearance, I have had a shitty couple of days. We have lost everyone, and you think you're going to waltz yourself and in here and threaten us?

"So you have two options: You walk your hostile ass out of here and let me finish saving my best friend. Or..." Phillip's tone dropped to a low, slow pace; he wanted Rick and all the others to hear exactly what he said. "Or... We all die, right here, right now. And Ricky, I'm not going to give you a lot of time to decide before I make the decision for you."

 

 


	4. Episode 1: "Wolves At The Gate",  Part 2

 

 

## Episode 1 Part Two

 

**The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode One: Wolves At The Gate  
Part 2:"Infiltrated"

**"divide et impera."**  
"Divide and conquer."  
  


**The** crowd drilled Maggie and Glenn about Rick's plan, and Maggie struggled to freestyle her answers. Maggie had never before been thrust into a role of leadership, and the Alexandrians weren't very friendly in their approach. Glenn could sense her struggle and decided to interrupt Olivia's interrogation of his wife.

"Look, we don't have all the answers just yet. There is something else going on, aside from the canyon full of walkers. Matter of fact, we're going to go check on Rick and the others now."

"And Deanna will join us," added Maggie. Deanna darted her eyes to Maggie once her name was brought into the conversation. "We are all a part of this. Like it or not, we're all in this together. And together is how we're going to get out of it."

The three excused themselves from the meeting house and headed to the streets of the safe-zone. "What's going on with Rick?" asked Deanna. "Did you see how he stormed out of there like that?"

"There must be something going on," said Glenn. "Whatever it was, it was something he felt like could handle without everyone." In the distance, Glenn saw Eric walking towards the home he shared with Aaron, the red in his hair highlighted by the brightness of the sun. Remembering that whatever Daryl said to Rick had made him storm off, and the fact that Daryl had been with Aaron, Glenn decided to do some investigation. "Hey, Eric! Have you seen Aaron lately?"

"I'm not sure," answered Eric. "Did you hear that loud noise? It was like a semi drove through here."

"We were inside with you, remember?" Maggie reminded Eric.

"What in God's name is that thing?" Deanna said, pointing at the large, black, military vehicle. The PYTHON was crudely parked in front of the infirmary, its doors still ajar.

Glenn retrieved his hand gun and Maggie followed suit. While checking her clip, Maggie said, "We're going to go check things out. Deanna and Eric, stay here. We'll make sure it's safe."

The two newlyweds crept towards the vehicle, weapons drawn. First to reach the open door was Glenn. The first thing he noticed was all the blood; whoever was riding shotgun had bled as if they were shot by one. "There's a lot of blood here, Maggie."

Maggie caught up with her husband and took in the view of the blood-soaked seats. "Oh my, you think it's Aaron?" whispered Maggie to Glenn. She didn't want to worry Eric if it wasn't necessary.

"Hard to say," replied Glenn. "Let's check the infirmary; whoever's blood this is, they're in there."

Before Maggie or Glenn could head inside, an aggressive bark exploded from inside the Humvee. Glenn, who was bitten by a terrier when he was eight, had a small phobia of dogs. When he laid his eyes on the enormous, Neopolitan Mastiff named Buster "The Dog" Marco, he all but wet himself.

***

**Phillip's** guns were pointed at both Rick and Carl, and Rick's revolver was aimed right at Shane. Something was pushing Rick to kill Shane, even though Shane looked rather lifeless in this state. He lay motionless on the hospital bed that was smeared with his blood. Michonne held the handle of her katana tightly, prepared to strike, and Daryl and Abe both pointed their guns at Shane's group. The true wildcard was Henry, who held the M-16.

This is going to be a massacre, thought Aaron. He didn't know Rick that well, and he didn't know if he would push it to the next level. "We are not doing this," declared Aaron. Aaron decided to separate from Rick's group, and placed himself between Rick and Phillip. "No one is going to die."

"Aaron, you promised we would be safe here," Phillip countered, his gun still raised.

"And you are," Aaron answered, as he gently placed his hands on Phillip's Berettas' barrels. "It's ok; no one is going to hurt you or your people. No one." He directed that energy towards Rick. Alexandria was a safe haven for the lost, and Aaron was all too familiar with Rick's unfriendly first impressions.

"It ok," Aaron said, his voice reassuring. "He's going to have to shoot through me to get to you. You and your people are safe here." Aaron slowly lowered Phillip's pistol. Simultaneously, Glenn, Maggie, Deanna and Eric all entered the infirmary.

"What in the hell is going on in here?" asked Deanna. She had been crushed by the murder of her husband by the hands of Pete, collapsing into herself and mourning mutely. But this standoff between Rick and Phillip snapped her into reality—she was ready to lead again.

Rick's blood was like magma, pumping rage through his veins. He had yet to lower his weapon, but he tilted his head at the sight of Phillip lowering his. Aaron turned to see Rick still pointing his silver revolver at Shane, and bit the bottom of his lip angrily.

"Are you going to shoot me too, Rick?" Aaron asked. Rick's eyes met Aaron's. He was infuriated with Aaron for his interference. Had Aaron minded his own business, Rick would have been able to handle Shane and his allies.

Rick slowly craned back his forearm, removing Shane from his crosshairs. Using the barrel of his gun, he scratched the top his sweaty hair.

"Nah, I'm not going to shoot you," Rick replied, reholstering his gun. He then turned around and walked away. Rick's group followed him, leaving Aaron, Eric, Shane, Denise, Henry and Phillip be—for the time being, at least.

As Rick and the others filed out, Phillip could see Phantom Austin standing in the corner with a small smirk on his full, pink lips. He slowly began to clap for his husband's performance."Well played, Phillip. Well played. And the Academy Award goes to..."

Aaron let out a sigh of relief; finally, it was over. But Phillip knew better; it was only beginning. "He's lost too much blood; he needs a transfusion," declared Phillip.

"Unfortunately, the zombie apocalypse  put the Red Cross out of business," Denise retorted. Though she took no pleasure in Shane's fate, she did enjoy taking a dig at Phillip.

"Well, Doctor, hook me up," Phillip said.

"Excuse me?" Denise asked, somewhat confused.

"I'm O-Negative," Phillip announced. "I'm a universal donor."

"You've been watching too much House. Just being O-Negative doesn't make you a perfect match," Denise was on a mission to prove her medical prowess, so much that she nearly forgot about the emergency that was sitting before her.

"Yeah, I know that, Melissa Etheridge," Phillip could sense lesbian energies from Denise; this was a skill most gay men possessed. "Blood is matched by 'Rh factor.' But right now it's an emergency. So are we going to just watch him die, or are you gonna scrub-up?"

Denise sat silently for a moment and absorbed Phillip's words. He was right, even though there was a smugness about him that bothered Denise. "Well, I'm the doctor now, so sit back and be a patient."

"Fair enough," conceded Phillip.

"I'll watch the door," Henry said, then grabbed a folding chair and parked it at the door. Like a soldier, Henry waited patiently there, his weapon in hand.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Aaron said, pointing at the weapon. "No one here is going to hurt you, I swear to you."

Phillip unzipped his Kevlar jumpsuit as well as the form-fitting bodysuit underneath it. "Sorry, Aaron. I don't have time for Officer Ass Wipe to mosey in here while I'm giving blood. Henry, if that cunt walks through that door, you light him up!"

"Pfft. You don't have to tell me twice," dismissed Henry.

"Is this what you want, Phillip?" Aaron drilled. "A gun fight?"

"This isn't what I want," confessed the soldier. "But I have a job to do, and that's to keep these people alive—by any means necessary."

***

**Rick** stormed away from the group, ignoring Deanna as she called after him. He marched on, flames of anger licking off his skin, saying profanities under his breath. His group tried to catch up with him, but Glenn suggested they give him his space.

"Are you sure that's what he needs?" replied Maggie.

"Yeah, more than sure." Glenn remembered when Lori had died, Rick was lost and angry just like he was now. There was no reaching Rick when that happened; it best to allow him to figure things out on his own.

"I'll go after him," Carl said.

"You're probably the only one that can reach him," Glenn said. "Besides, we have other things to attend to."

"Who is that man?" Deanna asked. "Who are any of those people?"

"The two with guns are complete strangers," answered Daryl. "Aaron and I found the kid, surrounded by walkers. He said he had two other friends, one with a gunshot wound, and that they needed help." Daryl wasn't a snitch so he was careful with his words, "I suggested we bring them back here. Sorry if it was a bad call."

"No, don't be sorry," replied Deanna. "Not yet, at least. Nothing happened back there, but Rick was very agitated. Why?"

"Because of Shane," confessed Glenn. Daryl was relieved that he didn't have to be the one to explain the history of Shane, as Glenn filled Deanna in. "About two years ago, right after this all started, I met Shane and a few other survivors. We had a camp outside of Atlanta. Carl and Rick's wife, Lori, were at that camp. Shane and Rick, they go way back, apparently back to childhood; so Shane looked after Rick's family." Glenn was trying his best to gloss over the more sensitive details.

"So they've known each other for years. That doesn't explain why Rick was so antagonistic." Deanna was suspicious of this story, she never took Glenn for a liar, but he was definitely minimizing something.

"Rick joined the camp, and he proved to be a better leader than Shane. Shane got jealous and tried to kill Rick. They got into a nasty fight and when Rick told us he killed Shane, we took his word for it."

"Glenn, that man was dying, but he wasn't dead," replied Deanna. "Is he dangerous?"

Flashes of Shane's explosive aggression returned to Glenn in spurts and jumps. He remembered Shane storming to the barn and releasing the walkers, and how aggressive he'd been with Hershel and his family. But when Glenn really examined Shane's behavior and compared it to where Rick was today, he wondered if Shane was as bad as he had initially thought.

"I don't know, anymore," confessed Glenn. "I don't know him anymore."

"And why is that?" drilled Deanna.

"Because, being 'out there' changes you," added Maggie. "Sometimes for the worst."

"And sometimes for the better," compounded Abraham. He believed that being 'out there' and finding Eugene, Rosita, Glenn and Maggie had actually saved him.

"Well based off the condition he was in, we're going to have to wait and see. Maggie, can you keep an eye on things and give me an update as soon as you have more information about our new guests?"

"You got it, Deanna," added Maggie.

"See, you even get a lollipop for sitting still like a big boy," teased Denise.

Phillip wasn't amused, especially in this weakened state. He attempted to stand, but began to lose his balance. "Hey, Phil, take it easy," urged Henry.

"I'm fine," he replied, still attempting to stand. His knees felt like gelatin, but he ignored them.

"Look, you just gave 1.5 liters of plasma. Do us a favor and try to relax," Denise added sternly. "You said I was the doctor and you were the patient, so now be patient."

"I said I was fine," Phillip said, finally standing on his own. Both Aaron and Eric watched from afar. Aaron, who had no medical experience, still knew that it was only a matter of time before Phillip fell flat on his face. "Where is Sheriff Cunt-Rag?"

"Rick," Aaron corrected, "is most likely brooding somewhere."

"Or planning something," Phillip countered. "Henry, we're not safe. We need to move Shane and get the hell out of here."

"You are not moving anyone. Your friend is finally stable, and you're trying to move him where? To a hospital?" Denise was getting agitated by Phillip's constant meddling in her medical affairs. He'd agreed to let Denise work, and here he was again, trying to run things his way.

"Look, Danielle—" Phillip began.

"Denise!" retorted the psychiatrist.

"—Denise," Phillip said, finally conceding, "I really appreciate everything you've done for—" Before Phillip could finish his statement, he collapsed to the ground. His body was overwhelmed; he was dehydrated, tired, and all but bled dry.

***

"Dad!" Carl called after his father, who was storming his way to the house where he, Morgan, Carol, Michonne and Judith stayed. Rick was too entranced by his rage to hear his son's voice. "Dad!"

But Rick continued to walk, still cursing to himself. Carl could make out some of what his father was saying; he was calling Shane a "son of a bitch" and "trying to take everything, again."

Carl was worried about his father mental state; he needed to snap back into reality. "Rick Grimes!!!" Carl yelled out, and Rick finally stopped in his tracks. He didn't look back at Carl, sharply inhaling with agitation. With his tan, button-down shirt tucked into his jeans and his eyes closed, Rick held his breath for whatever Carl had to say.

"That was Shane," the boy said.

"Yeah, it was." Ricks voice was low, and somewhat ashamed. Rick finally turned around to look at his son. Carl's fair face looked flustered from chasing after his father, and his body language displayed his agitation.

"How, dad? I watched you stab him. I saw him come back as a walker. And then I had to—I had to—"

"I know, Carl." Rick didn't want overwhelm his son. "Somehow, he survived."

"Who were those people with him?" Carl continued to drill. "How did they find us?"

"We don't have the answers yet. We're going to talk to Daryl; he has the details." Rick scanned the horizon. His eyes were tight due to the burning sun obscuring his vision, but he could see Carter scowling in the distance. "We have other things to attend to, Carl. We have to keep this place safe from an army of walkers. Once we handle the threats from the outside, we'll tend to the threats within."

Later that night, the group met at the Grimes' residence. It was seven in the evening, and the sun had recently set, leaving an indigo gloom in the sky. Dusk was in full effect, and Rick's group was plotting. Many of the members weren't around for the Shane era; only Maggie, Carl, Rick, Glenn and Daryl actually knew Walsh. Rick explained in detail who Shane Walsh was, only omitting the affair between him and Lori. Rick felt that detail wasn't necessary to divulge.

"So what are we going to do about him?" asked Abraham.

"I don't know yet, but whatever needs to be done will be done by me," said Rick.

"Looked like you wanted him dead," Daryl added.

"I do," Rick replied. "But I may have been a little impulsive. I was caught up in the moment."

"What about his people? The one guy, Phillip, he could be a handful." Something bothered Daryl about Phillip; he wasn't sure if it was his face or his attitude, but the man chapped his ass, immensely.

"He pulled a gun on my son; no way I'm letting that slide."

"You drew on them first," Carl added.

Hurt, Rick cut his eyes at his son. He couldn't believe Carl was defending Shane's group. "He could have shot you!"

"You could have shot them," Carl countered. "Are we sure we want to kill Shane? He hasn't really done anything."

"If this guy is bad news, why do you want to protect him, Carl?" Michonne asked.

"Because, he wasn't always a bad guy." Carl still cared deeply for Shane; he was like a surrogate father to the boy. It was Shane who had protected Carl from the walkers when they had first appeared. But it was Carl who'd had to fire a gun at Shane, and the boy had carried the guilt ever since. Now that Shane was alive, Carl wanted to do everything in his power to protect him.

"He threatened to kill me!" growled Rick. "Did you hear what he said?!"

"No Dad, I didn't. You know I could barely hear you two out there. But people can change." Carl stormed out of the living room where the group sat in a circle. Rick conveyed a look to his group, letting them know he had to play Dad right now. "Glenn, take over."

Daryl noticed that Rick had been placinga lot more esteem in Glenn lately, and less in him. There was a chill between Rick and Daryl, and he wasn't sure when it had started. Daryl watched from afar as Rick followed his son out into the neighborhood of Alexandria.

"Carl!" Rick barked at his fleeing son.

"Can I get five minutes? Jeez!" Carl complained.

"No, Carl, you may not have five minutes!" Rick had noticed his son had become more defiant in recent weeks. Carl was treated like a miniature adult, so it was no surprise he was beginning to carry himself as such. "You are going to stand here until I'm done talking to you. Do I make myself clear?"

Carl stopped in his tracks and reluctantly turned around to view his father. "Why do you want him dead? Huh? Why?"

"He was a threat to my family. He still is."

"You're lying," countered Carl.

Rick's brow sharpened, "What did you say? Carl, say it again?" Shane's presence agitated Rick on a level that he had never felt before. The fact that Carl was supporting Shane infuriated Rick all the more.

"You say Shane was a threat to us," Carl countered. "But wasn't he just a threat to you? You wanted to move the Governor in the prison but as soon as you see Shane... Dad, what's happening to you?"

"Carl, it's more complicated than that!" Rick said through his teeth, aggressively.

"You know, a wise man once said: 'We're not too far gone. We get to come back!'" Carl scoffed before turning away from his father. "I guess he was full of shit."

"Carl!" Rick yelled again.

"Can I have five minutes? God!" Carl said before kicking a rock and walking away from his father. Rick was tempted to follow, but he resisted. The young man wanted five minutes, so Rick authorized it.

Phillip had had issues with sleep for roughly five years, so even in his drained state, his sleep was interrupted by another nightmare. Visions of his husband, Austin, being devoured by walkers snapped Phillip to consciousness. When Phillip's eyes opened, he saw Shane in the hospital bed next to his. His right arm was connected to the IV, just as Shane's was. Henry and Buster sat together, their backs to the door, Henry holding the M-16 close to his chest.

Phillip heard the beeping of the medical machinery in the background. Phillip quickly eyed Shane's vitals from afar; they were normal. Phillip let out a whiny groan, and a "Bloody hell, where am I?"

"Alexandria," Henry answered. "You do remember everything, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Phillip said, wrestling with his IV cords.

"Hey, stop that!" Henry demanded. "You need to get some rest."

Phillip could see through the windows that the sun had already set. "Yeah, I think I've caught enough z's. How long have I been out?"

"Three hours, maybe. That Aaron guy brought us some food. I told him we had our own."

"Isn't Aaron thoughtful? Was it prepared, or canned goods?"

"Canned goods only. I told him that we wouldn't accept anything else," Henry added. "I can take care of us. I know you don't think I can, but I won't let anything happen to us. We're all we got now."

"You're right, and I do believe in you, Henry," Phillip said. "But I gotta get on my feet."

"You need to stay in bed, Phillip. The doctor said—"

Phillip quickly cut off Henry. "The psychiatrist could barely handle all the blood; she looked like she was going to pass out."

"But it was you who passed out, Phil."

"I'm fine," Phillip declared, disconnecting himself from the IV. "Besides, I have work to do."

"What are you talking about?" asked Henry. "What work? We just got here."

"One word, young Henry," Phillip said with a playful and dramatic flair. "Reconnaissance. But for this to work, I'm going to need a shower and some liquor."

Phillip got cleaned up in the shower that was a floor above them. Philip enjoyed his first shower in over two years. While Phillip got zestfully clean, Henry retrieved his suitcase that normally hid under his utility bag. Phillip had packed this suitcase before the outbreak, and had not once opened it since. The thing she needed were locked away and hidden by time.

When Phillip opened the bag, he found exactly what he was looking for—a pair of jet-black, tight fitting jeans from Dolce and Gabbana. He matched them with a D&G, plunging, steel-gray V-neck, then sprayed himself down with Ralph Lauren's Big Pony Collection, Cologne Number Three. To finish his ensemble, he wore dark, steel-toe Timberland Boots.

He made sure he used tweezers to lightly shape his eyebrows, and he shaved his fuzzy face. With his thick, wavy hair, he pulled it back into one bouncy ponytail, exposing the handsomeness of his face. Lastly, Phillip collected a case of Mia Dolcea Moscato D'asti. Hidden in the corner of the bag was a folder that said "Cohen and Cohen Law Firm." Phillip thought about opening the folder and reliving his hurt, but opted not to. He had other things to attend to.

When Henry got a closer look at Phillip, he whistled in awe. "Why are you dressed so snazzy? And what's with the booze?"

"I told you: recon." Phillip was brief with Henry, as he was focused on checking Shane's vitals—which were indeed normal.

"Dude, you look like you're going to prom." Henry continued to scan Phillip's attire.

"Back before all this happened, me and Austin were in the middle of a divorce," Phillip began. "We had agreed not to be petty about it. Once we finished our last mission in Miami, we were supposed to fly back to Boston to sign our divorce papers. Hell, we were going to make a party out of it. Our last hurrah, I guess."

"You two were breaking up? How?! Why?" Henry was bushwhacked, Austin and Phillip's marriage looked more solid than that of his own parents. The thought of Phillip and Austin divorcing was a true abomination.

"People grow apart... even us," Phillip said. "Ironically, it was the end of the world that forced us back together."

"So what are you doing now? Are you dressed for a funeral for Nancy and Austin?"

"Nope, I'm going to go see some neighbors. Keep your eye on him while I'm gone?"

"Of course. How long are you going to be gone?"

Phillip decided to guesstimate. "Give me about two hours."

"Two hours!" echoed Henry, in shock.

"Hold down the fort. Anyone try to come in here that ain't me, shoot 'em."

**Phillip** held the case of Mia Dolcea Moscato D'asti in his right hand while he scanned the neighborhood of Alexandria. It looked like many exclusive communities in the Greater DC area, and the aroma of a large pond brought a freshness to the dusk night. Phillip decided to only carry one nine millimeter on his hip—just in case. As he scanned the street with his eyes, he noticed Eugene watching him from a distance. Phillip decided to wave, which caused Eugene to scurry away.

"Mullet plus cargo shorts; it's good to know the Unabomber survived," Phillip said to himself.

Phillip figured there were only so many homes in the safe-zone, and he was willing to go door to door. Luckily for Phillip Marco, Aaron made himself visible.

"Hey, Phillip!" Aaron called out from up the street. Phillip turned to Aaron with a broad smile. The two men met in the middle of the street, and members of the safe-zone who were already suspicious of the stranger watched from their porches and windows.

"How is your friend?" asked Aaron.

"Stabilized," replied Phillip. "I mean, he's still resting right now, but I think we're past the hard part."

"How are you feeling?"

"Shitty," confessed Phillip. "But I'm a survivor; I suspect we all are."

Aaron smiled warmly but his eyes traveled to the case of wine. "What's that all about?"

"I wanted to thank you and Daryl, officially. I know it got really intense in there, but I want to try to repair things."

"Then you should probably apologize to Rick, he is still pretty upset about everything." Aaron didn't know all the details, but he knew how explosive Rick could be.

"Rick is lucky I didn't shoot him—and I was really close, by the way. I do think I should apologize to the kid. My back was against the wall, so I tried a bluff." Phillip was very up-front, and Aaron found that strangely endearing.

"So you had no intention of shooting Carl?" asked Aaron.

Hells yeah, thought Phillip, but he instead said, "I couldn't have brought myself to do it. If my son was in the line of fire, I would have backed down. Looks like Ricky doesn't have that same impulse. Anyway, where are you staying? I have delicious wine and music."

Aaron invited him to the home he shared with Eric and Daryl. Eric was sitting on the couch reading The Vampire Lestat when Phillip entered. His red hair was cut low and combed over to the right side of his head. Eric's eyes brightened when he laid eyes on the biracial soldier; he was already smitten by Phillip. He cleaned up very well, thought Eric. "Well, hello!"

"This is Eric," Aaron said, introducing the two men. "He's my lover."

"Dude, did you just say 'lover'? Very nineties of you, Aaron," Phillip said with a devilish smile. Aaron began to blush before chuckling at Phillip's comment; he too was smitten. Phillip sensed that half of his work was already done. Now he was about to get these queens liquored-up, and then they were going to tell him everything he needed to know about Alexandria **and** Rick.

"So this place, who's the boss here?" asked Phillip as he poured three glasses of wine. "No way Officer Douche-Rocket is the leader."

"Who Rick? Hell no, he just got here himself," said Eric. "Deanna Monroe and her late husband Reg were the leaders."

"Are they military? This place screams 'governmental response to an epidemic.' No way survivors were able to just create this out of the blue."

"You would be right; the military brought us here and promised they would be back. But they never came back," said Aaron.

"Until today," Phillip said, flashing his pearly white teeth.

Aaron's face reflexively morphed into a smile; Phillip's smile was infectious. "What about you? What's your story?"

"Me, I'm boring," declared Phillip.

"That's unlikely," Eric added. "With an introduction like yours, there's no way you're boring."

"I'm Air Force Pararescue. Me and my husband got separated from the rest of the team some years back. There has been absolute radio silence since we were separated, so I doubt there are any rescue squads coming to rescue the rescue team.

"Outside of that, I'm from New York, but as of late I've been between three different locations: NYC, San Diego, and DC."

"Is that what brought you this way? Were you trying to see if home was still home?" asked Aaron.

Thoughts of the Honeycutt Estate emerged in his head, and for a split second he relived the horrors he'd experienced there. Phillip immediately banished those thoughts from his head. "There is no more 'home.' There are just safe spots; how long they remain safe is anyone's estimate."

"Well you are safe here," Aaron asserted. "So, you lived in DC before all of this?"

"Absolutely, I owned a row home near the Southwest Waterfront," replied Phillip.

"Ooh, fancy," added the ever-intoxicated Eric. "Did you ever go to Secrets? That bar was in the same neighborhood."

"Sometimes," confessed Phillip. "What about you, Aaron?"

Aaron tried his best to think of the many gay bars that he'd attended in the Metro DC area. Places like Cobalt, The Dance Boutique, and Freddie's Beach Bar immediately entered Aaron's mind. Aaron searched his memory, hoping that he'd ran into Phillip before.

"But when me and Austin got together, my priorities shifted. Going out became a rare event. I was always working."

"You two got married? Like, legally married?" Eric was suspicious of Phillip's love story.

"In 2009, we flew to Boston, one of the few cities where it was legal, and got married. There was a bit of an age difference, but I felt safe with him. I didn't have to always be the strong one."

"You two are like gay pioneers," said Eric. "I knew people could get married in Massachusetts, but I didn't know anyone who'd had the nerve or a stable-enough relationship."

Phillip shrugged before taking a sip. "We weren't exactly perfect."

"I figured you were **out** ; being married and all, I figured you weren't hiding in the closet like me." Aaron wished he knew more strong and proud gay men like Phillip; perhaps some of their valor would rub off on him.

Well, that's an interesting fact, thought Phillip. It didn't surprise Phillip that Aaron was a closet case. If not for the apocalypse, he was sure Aaron would still be miles deep in the closet. "Nah, closets are for pussies. No offense."

Aaron's heart sank slightly. His cowardice surrounding his sexuality had less to do with self-hate and more to do with his innate shyness. Aaron wasn't offended, though. He wished he could be as brave as Phillip and still maintain his masculinity. "So, why so many frequent flyer miles? DC, New York, and California?"

"My mother lived in DC. Ever since my father died she and I had built a certain level of co-dependence. My mom was in the senate as long as I can remember, so it just made sense for me and Austin to buy a condo about five miles from Capitol Hill."

A light bulb went off over Eric's head. "Your mom was a politician too?"

Too? Phillip thought. "Yeah. I mean my mother used to work a non-profit before I was born, but as far back as I can remember, she was a Republican Senator of New Hampshire. Either one of you former politicians?"

"No, but Deanna is," added Aaron.

Phillip used his cell phone to play Kylie Minogue's "Love At First Sight," which happened to be Eric's favorite song. "Hey, settle down. That ankle isn't exactly healed," chastised Aaron.

"It's been years since I've heard this song, Aaron." Eric gaily danced with his glass of Moscato. "Come on, dance with me, Aaron."

"You know I can't dance."

"You can't dance or won't dance?" asked Phillip.

"Won't dance," clarified Eric. "First he said it was because there was no music, and now it's because he just doesn't want to do it."

"So, how long have you guys been here? Since the beginning?"

"Well, not exactly. I lived in Maryland. I couldn't afford the DC rent," confessed Eric, already somewhat tipsy from the wine. "He lived in DC—"

"—It was an awful apartment," added Aaron.

"But you did live there, rich boy!" Eric playfully taunted.

"Are you blue-blooded, as well?" Phillip further pressed Aaron.

Aaron, being organically bashful, minimized his affluence. "My mother was rich; I was a struggling lobbyist, trying my damnedest to get people to care about the Prison Industrial Complex and GMOs."

"Looks like the GMO companies won." Phillip flashed his perfect ivories at the men. There was something contagious aboutPhillip's smile; it was incandescent and inviting.

Eric, the more slender man, was struggling to hold his liquor and decided to take a powernap. "He didn't last long," remarked Phillip.

"He's not much for schnapps, if you know what I mean," Aaron said as he finished his fifthglass of the wine.

"Another?" seduced Phillip.

"Nah, I really shouldn't," resisted Aaron.

"Yeah, because you have work in the morning." Phillip ignored Aaron and filled both their glasses.

"Well I do, actually. Me and Daryl go out and look for other people to join us, to help strengthen thecommunity."

"Daryl, was that the rube with the crossbow?" Phillip took a small sip from his glass. "Nice guns;awful hygiene."

"He's really a great guy," said Aaron. "He's an honest, good man, through-and-through."

"You sound like you harbor a little crush," teased Phillip, making sure to whisper, just in case Eric was listening.

Aaron began to laugh hysterically, doing his best to mask the truth Phillip had exposed. "I'm really happy with Eric."

"But Daryl lives with you?" Phillip was beginning to stir the pot; he was a champ at these cerebral games. Aaron would be just another victim.

"He feels like an outsider, and I know what that feels like. But Rick and his people live at the third house from the corner, so he's usually there."

"The mood is set... so you already know what next," Rihanna's "Skin" could be heard in the background as Phillip's Smartphone created a sultry atmosphere. "I love this song. Come on, let's dance."

Aaron took a hardy sip from his glass. "Eric told you, I don't dance."

Yeah, I'm not Eric and I don't accept that, thought Phillip. "I wasn't asking. On your feet, schweetheart." Phillip pulled out his thick, New York accent when he said "schweetheart" and grabbed Aaron by the hand, pulling him out his chair. Aaron stood for second, unsure what to do besides laugh nervously.

"I told you, I can't dance," he said, shaking his head, still tickled by the notion.

"Well, you're like three feet away from me; get closer." Phillip pulled Aaron in by his hips, his forwardness was surprising to Aaron. Phillip could see Aaron's Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed his nerves. The two men were so close now that their thighs touched. "Now that's more like it. Look at you, you're sorta tall."

"I'm six foot one," said Aaron.

"Yes, you are. Now, feel the guitar, how it simmers. And just sway your body to the music." Phillip was surprised that Aaron had more rhythm than he let on. But Aaron kept his eyes on his notorious two left feet. "Now if you'd stop staring at our feet, you'd be all set."

"Sorry about that," Aaron said, his sapphire eyes connecting with Phillip's. Aaron inspected the softness of Phillip's lips and the sharpness of his jaw. His eyes travelled to Phillip's strong neck and chest muscles. Phillip was clearly a man who kept himself in the best physical shape, and Aaron appreciated a man who took care of himself. Phillip wasn't overly muscular, but his lean frame was still effective and well-built. Aaron's hands traced Phillip's biceps.

"You must work out often," remarked Aaron.

"I run, just like you." Phillip decided this visit had yielded all the information it would, and it was time to check back on Henry and Shane. But Phillip, the perpetual flirt, decided to leave Aaron with something to think about. "What's that smell? It smells like cologne."

"It's you," Aaron said.

"I know what I smell like, silly," Phillip said playfully. "No, it smells so good." Phillip began to sniff about like a little rabbit in search of a carrot; only problem was, it was Eric's carrot he was after. Phillip, without warning began to sniff Aaron's neck, which made him shiver; Aaron's neck was his weak spot. Phillip inhaled deeply at the scent of Aaron's skin. "Yeah, it's you."

"I just use soap," confessed Aaron.

"Well, whatever; it is smells like a bakery," Phillip said, giving him one more sniff. This turned Aaron on so much it surprised him. "Yeah, it smells great. But I gotta go, gotta check on my friends."

Aaron's breathing increased, and his body went stiff when Phillip placed his face against his neck. It was the first time another man since Eric had been so intimate with Aaron, and it awakened something in him. Phillip's hot and cold nature made it all the more confusing for Aaron, but that was exactly what Phillip wanted.

Phillip knew that his group was at a disadvantage; they were locked in a compound, surrounded by enemies. The only person Phillip thought was somewhat on their side was Aaron.

Aaron had already provided his origin story along with how he had met Rick. Eric and Aaron were so excited to have another gay man to yenta it up with. Phillip was funny, attractive, and cunning; all of these qualities were aphrodisiacs for gay men. But Phillip had to go and leave Aaron with a lot on his mind.

"Tell Eric I said goodbye and next time, he's not allowed to take a nap," teased Phillip. Phillip hugged Aaron, again placing his face on Aaron's bare neck. "Thank you for saving us, Aaron."

"Anytime," Aaron replied before releasing Phillip from the hug.

As Phillip walked back to infirmary, Phillip could see Rick scowling at him from his porch. Phillip, not one to be outdone, decided to wave at the officer with faux-friendliness. "Hey Ricky, enjoying the night?"

The sheriff held his revolver's handle tightly as he watched Phillip wave at him, condescendingly. Rick knew when he had to kill someone. He knew when he'd had to kill Gareth, Tony, and Joe. Rick had that same feeling burning in his belly that one day soon, he would have to kill Shane, Phillip and maybe even Henry to ensure the survival of Alexandria.

 

 


	5. Episode 1, Part 3

**The Walking Dead: -6**

Episode One: Wolves At The Gate

Part 3:"Bad Cop, Worst Cop"

 

_“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.”_

-Adolf Hitler

 

 **Rick** didn’t sleep.

Sleep was becoming more of a luxury in recent days, and the return of Shane Walsh didn’t help things at all. Rick lay awake in his bed beside Carl and Judith. Judy was up but kept herself amused by chewing on her left foot. The sight brought a small smirk to Rick’s sullen face.

“You up, already?” Rick asked his cooing daughter. “Let’s see if we can get something for you besides your foot.” Rick playfully gnawed on the right foot of the child, who joyfully laughed. Rick rose from his bed and walked over to his window, covered by thin, white curtains.

Peering through the windows, Rick could see the PYTHON parked near the infirmary. He also noticed that both Eugene and Abraham both were getting a closer look of the military vehicle. Rick knew that things were heading left when he saw Phillip with Aaron, running towards the vehicle and screaming obscenities.

“First thing in the morning…” Rick complained.

 

**15 minutes earlier**

Phillip left Henry with a resting Shane to go for a quick run with Buster, The Dog. Phillip wore his Dartmouth, green-and-white sweats as he jogged through the streets of Alexandria. Most of this behavior was gesturing; he wanted the people of Alexandria to know that there was a _new_ sheriff in town.

Phillip’s ears were plugged with chrome headphones and the tunes of Sublime’s “What I Got” poured into his body. He’d run for almost thirty minutes and had already circled the safe-zone countless times when he was startled by Buster inexplicably barking aggressively at something behind them.

Phillip turned to see a nervous Aaron, both hands up, surrendering. “I thought the only things I had to worry about eating me were the walkers.”

“Well, you probably shouldn’t be sneaking up on me, Aaron Hale.”

“I couldn’t help myself; I just wanted to surprise you, I guess.” Aaron bashfully scratched the back of his head, turning and smiling.

 _Real brilliant idea, Aaron. Sneak up behind a person with post-traumatic stress disorder and a gigantic, lion-eating dog_ , Phillip thought. “I would have appreciated the surprise, but Buster is a little skittish around strangers.”

“Well, I hope I didn’t scare him, either,” Aaron said, grinning.

“Wow, you have a beautiful smile,” Phillip said,.

Aaron nervously began to laugh again. He could feel Phillip coming on to him. It was a rare occasion that a man like Phillip would hit on him. Aaron, though very attractive, exuded vacillation from his pores. His lack of confidence had made him translucent to most of the gay men in bars. And here stood a man who was, physically, everything Aaron had ever wanted. But Aaron also was loyal—fiercely loyal—to Eric.

Aaron had to make things clear before they got messy. “Phillip, you are probably one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met, but…”

Phillip’s attention was stolen when he noticed two men by the PYTHON, touching the button panel in an attempt to open the door. “Hey! _Hey_!!!!” Phillip disconnected from Aaron rather sharply when he noticed Eugene and Abraham meddling with the doors of the PYTHON. Phillip and Buster both raced in the direction of the PYTHON, with Aaron barely on their tail.

It didn’t take the sprinter long to reach Eugene and Abe; Aaron managed to catch up, but was winded once the two men had made it to their destination. “ _Hey_!” Phillip aggressively called out. “Yo, Fire-Crotch and Achy-Breaky Heart, get the fuck away from my vehicle.”

Abraham was a man who appreciated vulgar humor, and being a red head, he had heard every “soulless red head” joke known to man. Fire-crotch was a new one. The blue in Abraham’s eyes burned wildly as Phillip stared him down. Abraham’s fist was clenched; he still had unfinished business with Phillip.

“Eugene,” Abe said, eyes still locked with Phillip’s, “explain to this unwelcomed guest that his vessel is being inspected due to his and his merry little bunch’s antagonistic introduction to this-here safe-zone. Since no one thought to properly vet these SOBs, I have decided to investigate this military vehicle to rule out any potential threats.”

Eugene began to nervously repeat Abraham’s words verbatim, but was quickly silenced by Phillip. “I heard him, you little sycophant.” Phillip hated cowardly men, and he could smell the timidity radiating off Eugene’s plump, pale, flesh. “I can tell by your hyper-vigilance, arrogance, and overall assholish attitude that you, sir, are former military.”

Abraham folded his arms. His dark olive tank was stained with grime and sweat, and Phillip could smell the scent of tobacco on his ripe breath as his lips were forced into a pouted frown. Abraham wasn’t impressed that Phillip had figured out he was military connected. He figured it was a lucky guess.

“But based off your somewhat-doughy appearance, I’m thinking you couldn’t cut it as a marine. So let me guess: National Guard? Or perhaps you were one of our brave members of the Coast Guard.” Phillip smiled devilishly at his quip, and could see the ire grow behind Abraham’s eyes.

  
"You little Twat-wart," Abraham said before approaching Phillip menacingly. But Aaron immediately placed himself as a barrier between the two men. Inadvertently, Abraham first collides with Aaron's left cheek. The punch stun Aaron for a second but shocked Abraham the most. Abe actually liked Aaron and mutely regretted his actions. He wasn't going to apologize, though.

“Damn it, Phillip,” Aaron said. “I can’t keep getting punched for you. Abraham, come on, man.”

“I’m sorry, I just have very little respect for the Coast Guard. I’m sorry.” Phillip was his classic, condescending self. “Besides, they were trying to break into my ride. I should kick their asses.”

“Oh, I would love to see you try, you powder puff girl,” Abraham said, forcing his body forward in an attempt to reach Phillip. He was chest to chest with Aaron, but his focus was solely on Phillip. “Come on! Put your dukes up!”

 “Aaron, get out of the man’s way,” Phillip knew he was going to have to make an example of someone, and Abraham would be the lucky winner. Buster began to aggressively bark at Abraham and with that noise, all-out pandemonium hit Alexandria before most people could get their morning coffees.

The commotion brought out Henry, who held Shane’s M-16 at his side. He noticed that whatever was going on didn’t involve guns, so he decided against aiming his weapon at anyone. Henry had learned that sometimes less is more, and he didn’t want to elevate the situation. The noise also brought out Rick and Michonne, and even Deanna stepped outside her home and waited on her porch.

“What in the _hell_ is going on out here?” Deanna was heated; ever since Phillip’s crew had arrived in Alexandria, a fire had returned to her. The sternness of her voice matched her face. “Abraham and Eugene, what are you two doing?”

Abraham was surprised how quickly Deanna jumped on their cases. “We’re trying to make sure this vehicle doesn’t have anything that could kill us all in our sleep.”

“That’s not my style,” Phillip said in a looming tone. “I prefer a much more ‘up-close-and-personal’ approach.”

“I don’t _need_ you to do that, Abraham.” Deanna couldn’t make out Phillip’s thinly-veiled threat. “Phillip, you are meeting with me in ten minutes. Get cleaned up and get your ass over here.”

Assertive and direct—Phillip liked a woman with those qualities. “Ten-four, Deanna. Catch you later, Carrot Top.” Phillip walked to the infirmary, with Buster and Henry both on his heels.

Both Michonne and Rick caught up with Abraham. Abe merely scowled at Phillip and continued his scowl, even when Phillip was out of sight. “I intensely dislike him.”

“Join the club,” Rick added. “It’s only a matter of time before we have to _deal_ with them.”

“You just give me the word,” said Abraham.

“Are we going to kill them for being rude?” Michonne was surprised at how quickly her group was resorting to murder to solve their issues. “We going to kill the kid and the guy hooked up to life support too?”

Rick could sense the agitation in Michonne’s voice; it reminded him of what Carl had said the night before. Carl’s, Michonne’s, Glenn’s, and Daryl’s opinions mattered the most to Rick, specifically in that order. Rick decided it may be time to reflect on his emotions and their approach, especially with Deanna’s influence.

Aaron, however, was horrified at the idea of murdering Phillip, Henry, and Shane in cold blood. “You are not going to kill them,” challenged Aaron. “We don’t kill people here.”

Abraham didn’t care much for Aaron. “ _You_ may not, but I sure as hell will. Especially when it comes to that little taint in there.”

 

 **“** Walkers or gingers, I really don’t know which is worse,” Phillip said while checking on Shane’s condition. Shane remained silent, resting peacefully, his chest rising and falling with no obvious agitation. “Has he woken up at all?”

“He said Nancy’s name a few times last night, but then went back to sleep,” said Henry. “What does that mean?”

“It rules out brain damage,” Phillip said. “I gotta get dolled-up again; I need to meet with the leader today.”

“I heard. Are you nervous?”

“You know me,” Phillip said, tossing his Dartmouth-green sweatshirt to the ground. “When the pressure builds, I rise to the occasion. Keep him safe while I’m out.”

“Do you even need to ask?” replied Henry who was munching on potato chips he’d swiped days earlier.

After a very quick shower, Phillip headed to Deanna’s home. Luckily, a familiar face waited for Phillip. Aaron, along with with Maggie and Glenn, met him at the porch. Aaron quickly introduced the couple to Phillip. “This is Maggie Greene Rhea and her husband, Glenn Rhea.”

 _Hubba-hubba_ , Phillip thought when he laid eyes on Glenn. Phillip was starting to wonder if coming to Alexandria was not too bad of an idea. He inspected the grooves of Glenn’s face, as well as its general structure. Phillip extended his hand to Glenn and said with a devilish smile, “당신은멋진엉덩이를가지고있다 (You have a great ass)!”

Glenn’s eyes tightened with curiosity. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Korean. I’m from Michigan.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” Aaron asked Phillip.

“Among other languages.” Phillip couldn’t help but smile harder. “It was just a friendly hello. So, where’s this interrogation gonna take place?”

“It’s not an interrogation,” clarified Maggie. “We just want to talk.”

“About Shane,” added Phillip.

“About you, Shane, and Henry,” said Aaron. “Like I said, you and your people are safe. We just want to talk to you for a little bit. Things were very intense when we met, and they’ve stayed that since. So we’re going to meet with Deanna, and we’re just going to talk.”

“Is she going to kick us out?” Phillip asked with faux-concern. Even if she did kick them out, Shane was stable enough now to be transported.

“It’s very unlikely,” Maggie said.

 

 **Rick** waited with Deanna inside her office, the same place where she had interviewed him with his group. Rick was antsy, and Deanna could sense his anxiety. He tapped his feet nervously as he waited for Phillip to enter. The two sat on the plush couch, as Deanna sipped her black coffee and waited patiently for their guest.

“Rick you look _obviously_ agitated,” Deanna noted.

“And for good reason,” replied Rick. “You saw what happened yesterday, what happened today. These strangers are not appropriate for this place. We need to get them out of here.”

“That’s precisely what this meeting is about,” Deanna said coolly. “But unless I have a good reason, Rick, I am not going to send them out.”

Rick figured as much, but he wasn’t above handling issues on his own, without Deanna’s consent. What had happened between Shane and Rick was personal and predated Alexandria. Deanna’s wishes regarding Shane and his group didn’t matter the least bit to Rick.

Rick’s face was still spotted with bandages from his battle with Pete, days before. Time and stress had brought out the lines on Rick’s skin, and his once-friendly face had become stern and cold. “I guess there is no harm in _hearing_ what he has to say.” In truth, Rick was waiting with bated breath for Phillip to enter; he wanted to know how the hell Shane had managed to survive.

Rick would get his answer soon enough when Phillip, Aaron, Maggie, and Glenn all entered the room. Rick’s body tensed at the sight of Phillip, his hands reflexively gripping his silver revolver. Phillip noticed this, but he wasn’t worried; he had a wild card ready for Rick if he decided to get too jumpy.

“Welcome. I’m Deanna Monroe, and you’ve already met Aaron, Maggie, Glenn, and Rick Grimes.” Deanna’s voice wasn’t overly warm or friendly; it was abbreviated and to the point. This actually relaxed Phillip. She didn’t come off as overtly hostile or faux-friendly, and Phillip appreciated a no-bullshit approach to these types of meetings.

“You’ve got a nice place here,” commented Phillip as his eyes scanned the room. “Can I take a seat?”

“Please,” Deanna replied. “You had quite the entrance yesterday.”

“I have a knack for flair,” Phillip replied coyly. He sat in a chair across from Aaron, Glenn, Maggie, Deanna and Rick. “But generally I don’t get into gun standoffs on day one.”

“Well, I think we can take some of the responsibility there,” Deanna said. She could feel Rick glaring at her when she said that; his eyes were shooting beams into Deanna’s cheek, but she kept her eyes locked on Phillip.

“No one got shot, nobody died; all in all, I would say it was a good day.” Phillip brushed a dark strand of curly hair behind his ear. “Shane’s going to make it.”

“Good for him,” Rick said, his teeth somewhat tight.

“That’s rich, coming from the guy who tried to shoot him,” Phillip retorted. Phillip couldn’t contain his venom, and had to take the petty jab.

Rick didn’t reply. Grimes was a man of few words, and when he was infuriated, he preferred to allow his actions to speak for him. “Shane and Rick have a checkered history,” Glenn added. “Shane tried to kill Rick some years back.”

 _And for good reason_ , thought Phillip. “Yeah, I heard that went down.”

“And breaking bread with a murderer doesn’t bother you?” Rick asked. Rick wanted to expose Phillip for the amoral filth he knew he was.

“Look, if you haven’t noticed, the world is far from friendly these days. You can’t go two steps without running into an undead cannibal, a murderous survivor group, or something worse. Shane is far from the worst person out there.”

“Your friend Shane tried to kill Rick?” Deanna’s emerald eyes cut to Rick. “Why?”

The group was silent. The elephant was in the room and Phillip was the only one who was comfortable. Phillip knew all about Lori and Shane, but he was fascinated by how Rick and his group acted as if it were the darkest of secrets. Phillip was amused by how Glenn’s, Maggie’s and Rick’s faces contorted with anxiety.

 _Let’s turn up the heat_ , thought Phillip. “I know exactly why, and I know why they probably don’t want to talk about it.”

Rick’s eyes cut to Phillip with great intensity. Rick gripped his revolver and was ready to end this. If the man even dared speak Lori’s name, he would fire two shots in Phillip’s face.

“Well, to my understanding, Rick and Shane had been friends since they were kids. Matter of fact, Shane and Rick were so close, Rick’s late-father considered Shane like a son. Long story made significantly shorter, the apocalypse happens, and Rick meets up with Shane, who is _leading_ a group. The group decides Rick’s more level-headed approach is more appropriate for leadership. Shane feels like an outsider; he is rejected by all those who he _loves_.” Phillip looked to Rick when he said “loves” indicating that he knew all about Lori but decided to take the high road. “Shane got jealous, lured Rick out to a field, trash-talked for a few minutes, waved a gun in his face, and Rick stabbed him. But hey, I wasn’t there or anything.”

Deanna absorbed the story. It didn’t paint Shane as an innocent guy, but it did give his behavior some sort of context. “Rick,” she called out. “Is this true?”

Rick kept his eyes on Phillip; he was smarter than Rick had thought. Rick had interrogated many criminals before, but none had ever been as relaxed or smooth as Phillip. Rick watched his body language for a drop of visible anxiety, but the man was so relaxed he almost appeared cocky, as if he already knew he’d won Deanna over.

Deanna wasn’t exactly sold though, and the silence in the room made her uneasy. “Rick, is this true?”

“More or less,” said Rick. “But Shane is unbridled and dangerous. He destroys anything he touches.”

“He’s a bit rambunctious, yes. But I think you’re exaggerating a bit; don’t you think?” countered Phillip.

“What the hell do you know about Shane, huh?” Rick said, tilting his head, peering deeper into Phillip. “I’ve known him since I was a boy, and I can tell you, Shane has always been trouble.”

“Is that so? Why, because he talked trash to you? Because he told you he was a better man than you? Because he tried to replace you? I’m sorry, I don’t think that merits an execution.” Phillip was over Rick; besides his being fiercely loyal to Shane, he thought Rick came off sanctimonious.

“Because he’s a fucking cancer, that’s why!” Rick slammed his hand on the coffee table that divided Rick from Phillip.

“Well, someone has a temper,” taunted Phillip.

“You still have your teeth, don’t you?” replied Rick.

 _You’re still **breathing** , aren’t you?_ thought Phillip. But instead of being hostile, Phillip decided on a more effective approach: he was about to play the victim. But before Phillip could begin his game, Aaron chimed in, “Rick, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Rick’s reply was aggressive and the group could feel it. Phillip noticed how Rick’s own people were responding to his behavior. Based off Glenn’s and Maggie’s expressions, they could feel Rick becoming more hostile. “I just want some answers.”

“Then start asking questions, and stop being a jackass,” Phillip replied. “Generally, when civilized people want to learn about other people, they ask. But based off our meeting earlier, I can tell you’re a tad feral. Look, Shane has been with me for about two years; me and my husband vetted him. And trust me, we would have discovered this “ _cancer”_ you speak of.”

“ _Husband_? I imagine there were more of you, then?” Maggie said.

Aaron decided to shed some light on Phillip’s origin story. “Yeah, he was with other people. His husband, along with Shane’s pregnant girlfriend, Nancy, were both killed two days ago.”

Rick gave Aaron a knowing look; Rick smelled a wolf in his hen house, and the reason why Aaron was so soft on Phillip had more to do with his dick than his mind. Rick was far from close-minded, but he wasn’t going to allow Aaron’s attraction to Phillip to put everyone at risk. But Rick decided not to call him out—not yet, at least.

“What brought you to Alexandria?” asked Deanna.

“Nothing. I was actually near Richmond, because my family owns a large estate there. But by the time we got there…” Phillip took a breath, and thoughts of Nancy being mauled by walkers as she cried out for Shane entered Phillip’s mind. “Nothing was there.”

“Where did you come from?” Glenn asked.

“Originally, New York. But since I’ve been married, we’ve lived in three places. We had a home in the Financial District in Lower Manhattan, a beach home in San Diego, and a condo in DC. My mom lived out there, so it was good to be close to her. I was all she had.”

“Phillip’s mother was a Congresswoman,” Aaron added.

“No shit,” Deanna said with interest. “Which district?”

“She wasn’t a Rep, she was a Senator; New Hampshire.”

“Barb Atkins is your mother?” Deanna asked, surprised by the revelation.

“ _Was_ ,” clarified Phillip. “She’s dead. I found her and my son, both dead. That’s what I found when I came to Virginia: death.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Deanna, her voice sober and supportive. “I lost my husband recently, too, as well as my son, Aiden. So I sympathize with your hurt. I didn’t know Barb that well, but from what I heard, she was one stone-cold bitch.”

Phillip chuckled, “Are you sure you didn’t know her?”

“Only in passing; being a liberal Republican does make you somewhat of a unicorn on Capital Hill,” replied Deanna, smiling friendly. The two shared a private laugh, which agitated Rick. Rick wanted Phillip, Shane, and Henry gone, but the fact that Phillip was appealing so greatly to the Alexandrians was making things challenging. 

“I remember you!” exclaimed Deanna.

“I highly doubt it,” countered Phillip.

“Oh, yes I do,” argued Deanna with a small smirk resting in the corner of her mouth. “It was a very long time ago. You were the cherubic little boy with the beautiful, curly hair and big eyes. You were with your mother and father, at the 1993—no, ’94—White House Correspondents' Dinner.”

“Perhaps, but that was a very long time ago.” Phillip had to really scan his brain for the memory. His mother had been a US Senator almost 20 years, and during her service Phillip was taken to numerous dinners and parties. Remembering an event that happened before he was even 10 was a challenge.

“You met my eldest son, Spencer. He’s a bit older than you, but I remember. You had the cutest little bowtie,” Deanna said, reminiscing on a far simpler time.

“My mother had this weird obsession with bowties,” confessed Phillip. “I’m sure I looked stupid.”

“I’m sorry, but what in the _hell_ does any of that have to do with any of this?” asked Rick. He could no longer hold in his annoyance.

“Rick!” Deanna chastised the sheriff for his rudeness.

“No, he’s right,” conceded Phillip. “I don’t remember you; I’m sorry. And I am sure I could bullshit you for the next couple of minutes to make it look like I remember, or that there was some type of pre-apocalypse relationship between us. There wasn’t. And to be frank, I prefer it that way. Currently, I am only responsible for three souls: Phillip Marco, Henry Rockwell, and Shane Walsh. My goal is to wait until Shane can travel, and then we’ll be on our way, smoking the hell out of here.”

“Phillip, I told you before, you are safe with us,” Aaron said, his voice reassuring and relaxing. But Phillip wasn’t interested in any of that bullshit.

“Yeah, I don’t think Rick wants any of us here,” said Phillip.

“Well, it’s not his choice,” Deanna replied. Deanna turned to Rick, who was burning holes into Phillip’s chest with his eyes. “Shane—you know him well, don’t you?”

“Too well,” replied Rick, somewhat hostile.

“Has he ever murdered any member of your friends or family?” asked Deanna.

Rick was silent; the answer to that question was no. Luckily, Maggie jumped in, “He killed Otis! Otis was a good man; he and his wife lived with our family. While on a run to get supplies, Shane shot Otis in the knee to save himself.”

“The racist, obese guy?” asked Phillip, who recalled Shane sharing this story with him. “Yeah, to my understanding, they both were being chased by walkers and somebody had to go. Admittedly, not his most shining moment. But to my understanding, Shane did this to save Carl—who was shot by Otis, I might add.”

Maggie was caught off guard by Phillip’s knowledge of the previous events, especially of Otis. “Not to say Otis deserved to die or anything, but according to Shane, Rick said he would have done the same thing. How about it, Ricky? Would you have shot Otis in the cankle to save Carl?”

Again, Rick sat silently, still trying his best to figure out Phillip. There was no doubt that Phillip and Shane were true threats, but the way Phillip was able to stay cool in this situation irritated Rick. He narrowed his eyes as he scowled at Phillip with intensity.

“I’m going to take that silence as a ‘yes,’” concluded Phillip.

“Rick, did Shane ever rape any member of your friends or family?” Deanna further drilled.

“He tried—” thoughts of a conversation Rick and Hershel had had emerged in Rick’s mind. Hershel had told Rick of a time when he and Lori discussed that Shane had tried to force himself on her. But Rick knew if he told that part of the story, then he would have to discuss how Lori slept with Shane, willingly, for weeks. “He tried—he tried to ruin _everything_.”

Deanna concluded that Rick’s issues had nothing to do with the safety of Alexandria, and his personal vendetta was invalid. “Rick, these people are under my protection. Especially Shane, since he can’t defend himself at this time. This isn’t me taking sides or saying _you_ were wrong. This isn’t just for Phillip or Shane or Henry; _this_ is for Barb.” When Deanna said Phillip’s mother’s name, her eyes locked with his. Phillip may not have known their full history, but Deanna clearly felt close to his mother. Phillip didn’t care; the way he looked at it, it was his mother still protecting him from beyond the grave.

“Thank you, Deanna,” said Phillip.

“But we will need _all_ of your weapons, just for the duration of your stay,” Deanna may not want them dead like Rick, but she wasn’t ready to risk the safety of the community by leaving them armed.

“I don’t know; what’s stopping Police Chief Wiggum from executing us in our sleep or something?” replied Phillip, still suspicious of the community, but primarily of Rick.

“He won’t touch you,” declared Aaron.

Rick was surprised by the balls on Aaron, and he conveyed a look that said as much. Rick fluttered his eyes at the ridiculous thought that Aaron could prevent him from killing Shane and/or Phillip. “I have no desire to hurt anyone,” said Rick.

“Then it’s settled,” said Glenn. “Turn in your weapons to the armory; I’m sure Aaron can show you where it is. We will return every round to you when you all leave.”

“Fair enough. But there’s just one thing, before we adjourn this little meeting,” said Phillip, his voice coy.

“And what’s that?” asked Maggie.

“I’m sure Rick is just _dying_ to talk to me alone.” Phillip was satisfied with himself, and he couldn’t help but rub it in Rick’s face.

“Rick?” asked Glenn. He wasn’t sure what the relatively-mute Rick thought about the private sit-down.

But a small smile appeared on Rick’s face. The prospect of being able to ask what he really wanted to ask was sensational. “Yeah, we need to discuss a few things.” Rick fixed his eyes on Phillip. His stare was intense, a stark contrast to Phillip’s slouchy, relaxed posture.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” added Aaron. “I think I should stay.”

“Nah, it’s ok, Aaron. I’ll be fine. But you could help by taking Rick’s gun. I would hate for him to shoot me in the chest because he didn’t like my answers.”

Without thinking, Rick quickly removed his revolver from his holster and passed it to Deanna, his eyes staying glued on Phillip the entire time. Rick never took his left hand off the revolver during the entire meeting, Phillip knew this. “Give us a few minutes.”

Glenn, Maggie, and Deanna filed out with no objection, but Aaron moved a lot slower than the other three. Before leaving the room, he said, “Scream if you need something. I’m just on the porch.”

 _Is this guy serious?_ thought Phillip. When Aaron finally left the room and shut the door, leaving the sheriff and the soldier alone, Phillip said, condescendingly, “Isn’t he just a sweetie?”

“I’ve noticed how good you are at manipulating the weak-minded,” countered Rick.

“Well, Ricky that wasn’t very nice. I mean, it was Aaron who brought you, your family, and your friends to this place in the first place. It’s a shame you consider him weak-minded.”

“And he’s been talking to you, I see,” Rick already knew Aaron had told them everything he knew about Rick and his group. Good thing he didn’t know shit.

“Look, I was an asshole for pulling a gun on Carl; it wasn’t right. I’m not going to apologize to you, but I will apologize to him.”

“You won’t go _near_ my son!” Rick’s voice rose with anger and his face became flustered with heat.

Phillip shrugged. “Whatever, then I won’t apologize; no skin off my ass.”

“Why is he alive?” asked Rick. “I want to know the truth.”

“Well, you only stabbed him once, in the lung, with a very small knife, apparently. Are you sure you were trying to kill him?”

“Carl shot him, right in the head,” Rick said. “I checked!”

“Oh, so you found brain matter, or a nice little hole in his head?” countered Phillip. “You really think a twelve-year-old can land a headshot, in the middle of the night, with limited gun training? Are you _fucking_ kidding me? Shane had apparently rammed his face into a tree earlier that day, so that would explain all the blood you no doubt saw. As far as the bullet is concerned, it left a scar that would look way more gnarly had I not stitched him up.”

“That explains how he survived us; what about the herd?” drilled Rick.

“Something about guts falling on him, and apparently he used one of the walkers to cover himself. Apparently, these are all tricks of yours he used; you really left quite the impression on Shane.”

“You talk like you really _know_ him. You don’t know a God-damned thing about Shane Walsh.”

“It’s been two years,” said Phillip with a shrug. “Whatever he is, it’s not a threat to me. And we all know why he was a threat to _you_.”

“And why is that?” Rick said, tilting his head forward. “Why don’t you tell me how Shane was a threat to me? Go ‘head, say it.”

Phillip let out a condescending scoff, almost mirroring Shane’s delivery. “Rick, are you threating me? Look, man, I’m not here for any of that. I told you already, we don’t want anything you got here. But for the record, I could beat your ass until the cows came home. And hell, I could probably kick the cow’s asses too.

“But it won’t get to that, I promise, Ricky. Me and you are very different, but we’re on the same side.”

“I highly doubt that,” Rick replied. “You talk just like him, like you got it all figured out. You don’t know anything and it’s obvious. But men like you love hearing the sound of their own, smug voices, so they keep crapping out that verbal diarrhea.”

“I do _know_ this place is a mausoleum,” said Phillip. “You’re all just waiting to die, whether you know it or not. But we won’t be the ones that do you in. It’s going to be your own stupidity. Just watch.”

“You’re right with that,” Rick said with a smile. “It could never be _you_ or _Shane_ to do _me_ in. Never.”

“Well someone’s confident of themselves,” Phillip said with a broad smile. “I mean, just look at the score: You tried to kill Shane, and failed at that. Then your son tried, and failed too. I mean with your PCT, I probably wouldn’t be that cocky.”

“Because you’re modest,” countered Rick.

“Well, no, I’m not,” confessed Phillip. “But I happen to have an excellent track record. I mean, anyone who faces me generally doesn’t live to tell about it.”

Phillip had a darkness within him, and Rick knew he was just scratching the surface. Phillip’s candid admission was the perfect segue into Rick’s next line of questioning. “How many walkers have you killed?”

Phillip’s eyes narrowed at the question. “Come again?”

“How many _walkers_ have you killed?” Rick’s voice was low but not hostile. He had decided to match Phillip’s coolness. He figured the best way to handle a man like Phillip was to be as calm and unbothered as possible.

“Gee, I don’t know.” Phillip honestly couldn’t answer that question; it had to be in the hundreds, by this point. “I lost count a _long_ time ago.”

“How many _people_ have you killed?”

That was an even harder question. Did Rick mean before or after the fall of mankind? Phillip decided to give him the most honest answer he could muster. “I lost count a _long_ time ago.”

As smart-ass of an answer as that was, Rick knew that Phillip was being truthful. He really had lost count, and honestly, so had Rick. For the first time, Rick realized how faulty his three questions were. But the last question usually revealed all he needed to know about a person. “Why?”

Phillip had grown bored with this interrogation and he wanted to check on Shane. He figured an abrupt exit would be the most powerful way to end this meeting. But in true dramatic fashion, Phillip couldn’t just leave without giving Rick something to think about.

Rising from his seat, Phillip leaned in closer to Rick, his eyes engaging with sheriff’s, intimately. And with a smile, the soldier replied, “Because they had it comin…”

 

 **Shane’s** sharp gasp was so loud that it startled both Henry and Buster. Shane’s eyes darted through the room as he struggled to focus his dizzying vision. He was seeing in triples, and his chest ached from the ballistic wound with every heaving breath.

“Shane! Shane!” Henry happily hooted. The teen quickly scurried over to his friend, followed by the large dog. Hovering over Shane, Henry fired off a series of questions: “Shane, are you ok? Are you hungry? Does it still hurt?”

“Yes, yes, and ­ _fuck­_ -yes,” Shane said. “Where are we?”

“A place called Alexandria,” replied Henry. “Its supposed to be maybe twenty miles outside of DC.”

“Why in the hell are we so close to DC?” asked Shane, agitated at the thought of their already-slim group being so close to the red zone. “Why in the hell are we that close to a big city?”

“Calm down, bro,” Henry said. “This place has walls.”

“So did Phillip’s place,” Shane reminded Henry. “Forgot what happened there?”

“Of course not,” said the teen. “I haven’t been able to sleep more than three hours at a time since that day.”

Shane realized how harsh he must have come off. Henry was an orphan; he’d lost his entire family in a span of 30 days. Shane reached out and placed his hand on Henry’s. “Kid, are _you_ ok?”

Henry shrugged mutely, raked his fingers through his thick, curly locks and looked away from Shane. Henry had never been good at displaying his emotions, and the recent traumas that he experienced made the boy even more reclusive.

“Where’s Phillip? He’s not—” Shane began to panic at the thought that Phillip, like Austin, was dead.

“He’s fine. He’s just talking to the town’s people. They’re not the friendliest.” As Henry and Shane caught up with each other, Dr. Denise entered the room, a crisp, red apple in her hand.

“Good morning.” Denise noticed that Shane was conscious. “You’re up. How are you feeling?”

“I’m alive,” Shane dryly replied. “A day above ground is a good day, I suppose.”

“I don’t think that applies anymore, seeing as the dead now freely walk above-ground.” Denise removed the stethoscope that hung from her neck and quickly checked Shane’s breathing. The good doctor could hear some congestion, but nothing too pressing.

“How are you feeling?” asked the doctor.

“Like I got shot in the chest,” retorted Shane.

“Are all of you such rude assholes?” asked Denise.

“ _I’m_ not an asshole,” countered Henry.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” chastised Shane. “I try to teach the him good manners, but kids these days have such fucking potty-mouths.”

“I’m sure you’re setting a great example,” quipped Denise. “Your vitals are looking good. _And_ that’s not the IV I hooked up.”

“Phillip did that,” chimed Henry. “He put some antibiotics in at as well. He wanted to prevent infection.”

 _Well, that was smart_. Denise appreciated anyone with extensive medical knowledge. “Well, it’s good that he was taking care of you. You’re probably hungry; I’ll see if we can get something from the pantry for you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Denise,” Henry said with his organic sweetness. Though the teen was towering in height, he still had the heart and innocence of a child. “You and your friends have been good to us, except for the whole ‘stand-off’ situation.”

 _“Stand-off?”_ queried Shane.

Before Henry could go into more detail, Phillip entered the infirmary. “Well, look who’s up,” the soldier said with a grin.

“I feel like refried shit, but I’m alive,” Shane said.

“It was a close one,” added Henry. “Too close a call, if you ask me.”

“Agreed.” Phillip couldn’t take another loss. “Shane, I got bad news for you.”

“I remember. Nancy and the baby, Austin—they’re all gone. I was hoping it was a dream, but—”

“Rick Grimes is here.” Phillip interrupted Shane. He didn’t want to talk about Austin or Nancy or any of the horrors they had endured, days earlier. Besides, they had other things to worry about.

Shane sat up; he wanted to get a good look at Phillip. “Did you just tell me Rick Grimes is here.”

“And he’s apparently ‘the law,’” said Phillip. “He’s a jerk, by the way.”

“Pot calling the kettle black?” taunted Denise as she recalibrated Shane’s vital machinery.

Phillip frowned with annoyance. “Can you give us like five minutes?”

“Are you kidding?” asked Denise. “I’ll give you a whole hour. I don’t like to begin my days with piss and vinegar.”

As the doctor began to file out, Phillip gestured to Henry, “You too. Matter of fact, you may need to take an entire hour, too.”

“Why?” Henry replied defensively.

“Because you stink. It’s the end of world, not the end of courteous hygiene. Go get showered.”

“Yeah, little buddy,” added Shane. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you are smelling pretty _rank_.”

Like many early, male teens, Henry had entered a stinky phase. But neither Shane nor Phillip would tolerate his malodorous state. “I couldn’t shower because I was on look out all day while Phil was having wine parties and sitting with heads of state.”

Shane did catch the part about wine parties, but he would inquire about that once Henry was out of the room. “I’m fine. You’ll see me when you don’t smell like a walker on the rag, man.”

Henry nodded before taking off to the restroom on the second floor of the house-turned-infirmary. When the two men were alone, they knew exactly what they needed to do.

“So, Phillip, I know you; there’s no way you would have brought us in the eye of the hurricane without a plan. So why don’t you share it with me?”

“I had no idea Rick Grimes was here until we got here. This guy, Daryl, he said he knew you from Atlanta, but he was very vague about the details. Had I known—”

“You would have made the same call,” completed Shane. “And it would have been the right call. I prolly woulda died out there; you made sure that didn’t happen, t _wice_. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“That’s what I do—save your _sorry_ ass,” teased Phillip. “He barged in here with guns, you know, him and his little merry bunch.”

“Could have sworn I saw Dixon,” remarked Shane, still trying to organize his thoughts. “What about Lori, did she come check on me?”

Phillip got quiet. He remembered last night Aaron telling him that Rick had arrived only with his son and daughter, and the group he’d developed. “I’m sorry, Shane, but Lori wasn’t with Rick. Chances are—”

“She’s dead,” concluded Shane. Shane’s face was firm, like stone, and he turned his head slightly to the right as he struggled to tighten his lips against the muted tears that were beginning to stream down his cheeks. Shane relived the moments when the seven-month-pregnant Nancy was ripped from his arms, and she and the baby were devoured by the dead. But the only word Shane could say with a burning growl was, “Rick…” Rick had failed to keep her safe, and that meant he couldn’t be allowed to keep breathing.

Phillip knew his friend was impulsive, but he had worked really hard to get the people of Alexandria on his side. All it would take was for Shane to go on a rampage and piss on all of Phillip’s hard work. Phillip had to find a way to redirect Shane’s rage. “But the baby is alive.”

“What?” Shane’s question was faint, as if he were being snapped back into reality. “The baby— _my_ baby—is alive?”

“They named her Judith. I haven’t seen her myself, but I hear she’s a cutie.” Phillip placed his hand on Shane’s shoulder.

“Where?” Shane’s eyes met Phillip’s. “We have to go there.”

“Hold your horses, you’re not even healed enough to move. Give it a day; hopefully Rick won’t be so antagonistic tomorrow.”

“Fuck Rick, man,” Shane said, sitting himself up on the hospital bed. “Far as I’m concerned, he’s dead to me.”

“And if he tries to fuck with either one of us, he’ll be dead for real.” Phillip declared. “They want us to turn in our guns.”

“And _you_ told them to kiss your biracial ass, right?” Shane inspected Phillip’s face for the results of that request. “Didn’t you? Phillip?”

“I said we would.” Phillip couldn’t look Shane in the eye; he knew Shane would hate that idea.

“Well, crack out the giant drum of cyanide-laced Kool-Aid; we’re trying to get ourselves killed.”

“Hey, get off my case. I’m doing the best I can,” Phillip countered. “Besides, we’re not giving them all the weapons. A few assault rifles, a couple of hand guns, just enough to make them _think_ they have it all. I made a promise, Shane. I’m not going to let anything happen to Henry, or you, or Buster. I would execute every soul here first.”

“That sounds really menacing from an unarmed man,” Shane said with a chuckle.

“I told you, we’re not giving up all our guns. But you gotta trust me like I trust you. We can’t let these people divide us, and we got to keep our head in the game.”

“What game is that, Phillip?”

“Survival,” answered Phillip. “I’m going to make sure Lindsay Lohan and Captain Mullet aren’t hotwiring our wheels.” As Phillip turned to walk away, Shane grabbed his right hand.

“Phillip,” Shane said, his voice somber and sincere, “I just wanted to say: I’m _so_ sorry about Austin. I know how much you loved him. He loved you, too.”

Phillip didn’t have the strength to deal with mourning the loss of his husband, and Shane’s condolences were all that was needed to bring the hurt back to the surface. Phillip tightened his hand around his friend’s, “I’m sorry about Nancy and the baby, Shane. They won’t take another one of us. I promise. We’re safe.”

 

 **Outside** the walls of Alexandria, the Alpha Wolf watched Spencer scan the area for the tower. Before becoming the “Alpha Wolf,” he had been just a guy; he’d had friends, gone to bars in the Greater DC area, and hit on girls. But now he was a hunter. They were the **wolves,** and the people of Alexandria were sheep; they didn’t belong.

“When do we take them?” a beta female wolf with short, dirt-caked blonde hair asked. “When do we devour them?”

“Soon,” the Alpha replied. “We need a truck. Fill it with the dead. Give them **something to** _fear_.”


	6. Ep 1, Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4:"Dress Rehearsal"

**The Walking Dead: -6**

Episode One: _Wolves At The Gate_

Part 4:"Dress Rehearsal"

_“If we are not our brother's keeper, at least let us not be his executioner...”_

-Marlon Brando

 

Phillip waited outside the armory, holding an oversized, black duffel bag stuffed with his group’s weapons. Phillip wasn’t alone; beside him stood Glenn and Maggie, with Michonne and Rick watching from the sidelines. Phillip couldn’t take his eyes off Michonne. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the dreads or the katana, but he was enthralled. Michonne noticed that Phillip was watching her rather closely, and the brownness of her eyes caught Phillip’s.

“Problem?” Michonne asked, bluntly.

“Besides the unconstitutional confiscation of my weapons, I’m peachy-fucking keen.” Phillip gave Michonne his classic, devilish grin, to which she frowned.

Aaron exited the armory, pushing a large, gray, plastic cart. Phillip and the others were distracted by the noise the cart made, due to its slightly warped aluminum wheels. “Alright, I just have to check each weapon in. Remember, these are your guns. When you leave these walls, you can have every one of them back.”

“For you, Aaron, anything,” Phillip said, still working his voodoo.

“I don’t give a shit _who_ you do it for,” interjected Rick. “Just make sure you check them all in.”

“Ten-four,” Phillip replied sarcastically. In one zip, Phillip opened the bag and revealed the arsenal he had amassed.  “We have three M-16s, two AK-47s, eleven hands, five nine-millimeters, one baby Glock—a personal favorite of mine, two Ruger LCPs… And lastly,” Phillip removed the two guns that were holstered at his waist, adjacent to the two, large bowie knives also holstered at his hips. “Two Smith and Wesson, .50-caliber silver magnums, or as I like to call them—the twins.”

Rick approached the cart and the armaments that were sprawled out before him. Rick began to inspect the guns, much to the chagrin of Phillip. Rick noticed a pattern; none of the weapons provided were loaded, and some were missing clips as well.

“Ammo?” Rick asked, his eyes still on the weapons.

“Excuse me?” Phillip replied, even though he could hear Rick perfectly.

Rolling his eyes, Rick focused them on Phillip. “I said: ammo? None of these weapons are loaded—no clips. Where you hiding the ammo?”

“I’m not hiding it. I have thousands, upon thousands, upon thousand of rounds of ammo. You can never be too safe these days.”

Placing his hand on his hip and leaning in closer to Phillip’s bubble, Rick replied, “Well... Hand it over. That is, of course, if you want to stay.”

“Yeah, fuck _you_ very much,” retorted Phillip.

“Phillip!” Aaron chastised. “We agreed.”

“I _agreed_ to turn in my weapons, not the ammo. What am I going to do, _throw_ the bullets at you? Ricky, are you that scared of me?” Phillip’s tone was condescending, and he even forced a somewhat effeminate tone to further underscore just how cowardly he viewed Rick as. In his mind, Rick had snuck Shane like a coward. Phillip had no respect for Rick, and he wanted it to be known.

Rick scowled silently. His eyes were shooting flaming arrows through Phillip, but he remained outwardly calm. He had figured out Phillip’s game, and he wasn’t going to play along.

Phillip decided to use Rick’s stone-cold silence against him, “I don’t blame you, Rick, I’d be scared, too. You’re not getting my ammo, and you won’t be holding on to our guns for long. In forty-eight hours, we are the hell out of here.”

“Already?” asked Aaron. “Your friend was just shot in the chest; he barely survived.”

“Who, Shane? It’s not his first blow to the chest. He’ll be fine; he told me as much,” said Phillip.

“You mean he’s up?” asked Maggie. “I thought you said Shane was unconscious.”

“He was. And now he’s somewhat conscious.” Phillip began to place the weapons back inside the duffel bag. “I’ll be zipping this up and wrapping it with a thick chain. I would hate to come back to an empty bag.”

“We have more than enough,” said Glenn. “We don’t need to steal.”

“Sure you don’t, handsome,” Phillip said. “But just in _case_.”

 

 **In** the distance, Carl stood with Carol on the porch. Carol tried her best to calm the fussing Judith. “She’s never this fussy,” remarked Carol.

“She’s been more agitated as of late, not really sure why though,” replied Carl, his eyes still focused on his father.

Carol noticed how entranced Carl was by his father. She also noticed the change in Carl’s behaviors since the return of Shane. “Something bothering you, honey?”

“My dad has been acting weird,” remarked Carl. “Something is going on that I don’t know about.”

“It’s Shane, isn’t it?” asked Carol. “Knowing that he is here, and that you can’t talk to him?”

“That’s some of it,” Carl astutely noted. “But there is something else.”

“Carl, your father has a lot on his plate, with the quarry full of walkers and now Shane and his group here. We have to stay sharp, got to be ready for whatever happens next.” The glare of the sun was bothering Carol’s eyes, and she suspected it was also a problem for Judith. “Can you take Judith? I’m going to go catch up with your father. Besides, I think she’s fussy because of how bright it is today.”

Carl collected his sister and Carol walked over to Rick. As Carol approached, she could hear Glenn ask Phillip, “So how long has he been up?”

“Define ‘up,’” replied the coy soldier. “He’s opened his eyes and croaked out a few sentences, but it’s not like he’s ready for a triathlon.”

“Well, I’m glad,” said Rick.

“Like hell you are,” retorted Phillip.

“It means I won’t have to stomach being in the same vicinity as Shane for much longer.” Rick’s tone was iron-cold; in his heart, Shane was still dead to him. “Besides, we got other things to take care of. I don’t have time to babysit Shane all day. Michonne, Glenn, Maggie!” Rick and his group moved away from the armory and met with Carol in the middle, as she was joined by curious Abraham and Eugene.

“I left Judith with Carl; what’s going on?” asked Carol, her brow tight.

“Shane is up,” announced Rick. “We made his little friends turn in their weapons, but I got a feeling that there is more to fear. Like that vehicle. Abraham, you ever see anything like that thing before?”

“When I left the service, it was my job to show off fancy military weaponry and vehicles just like that vessel, but I can’t say I’ve ever come across anything quite like it before,” confessed Abraham.

“I have,” said Michonne.

“You have?” asked Rick. “When?”

“Little over two years ago, outside of Senoia, me and Andrea ran across a similar vehicle.”

“Most likely, it was the same vehicle,” added Glenn. “It would fit in the timeline.”

“Whatever that thing is, it’s not designed for mass consumption,” said Abraham. “The XM1124 was a prototype Humvee; it ran on fossil fuel and electricity. It was much larger than your standard Humvee, and had almost twice the power of the M1151 Enhanced Armament Carrier. Whatever that thing is, it looks newer and far more powerful.”

“So in other words, it won’t matter if we take their weapons, as long as they have that thing,” Rick realized. “We’ll figure something out. Besides, we have other things to attend to today. Glenn, find Aaron and tell him that we want the keys to whatever the hell that thing is. We still have to do a walkthrough today at the quarry; we gotta get these people ready for what’s to come. Where’s Daryl at?”

Daryl was using his grime-coated fingers to eat tuna fish from the can. Alexandria had been abuzz since Daryl had brought Shane and his group to the safe-zone. Daryl felt guilty for his actions, especially since they’d put a further strain on his relationship with Rick, a relationship that had been fractured ever since Daryl had started to become more involved with Alexandria. Thoughts of his conversation with Rick re-emerged in his mind.

Rick was against the idea of helping people, bringing them back to Alexandria. But that was the only purpose that Daryl had, so the thought of ending the search for more people didn’t sit well with the archer.

"These people, they gotta take care of themselves. You feel different about it?" Rick’s posture had changed to a mild challenge.

“Yeah, I do,” replied Daryl.

“And so?” countered Rick. “We just gonna bring more people back? Like The Governor, or the people back at Terminus?”

“No, Rick,” Daryl said, their eyes disconnecting. “People like us.”

Daryl quickly banished those thoughts from his mind. Daryl’s defiance had led to Shane being brought to Alexandria. Who would have thought a small deviation could change things so drastically?

“Hey Daryl,” said a peppy Eric. “Have you seen Aaron lately? He’s been gone for hours.”

Licking his fingers, Daryl replied, “He was checking those new guys in. I’ll go check it out and send him back to you.”

“There’s no emergency; I was just wondering,” replied Eric.

“Still,” Daryl replied. Daryl was curious to know what had happened at that meeting between Rick, Deanna and Phillip. Only Glenn, Maggie and Aaron had been privy to that meeting. Daryl had noticed the distance between himself and Rick, but the two men had a similar interest: keeping Alexandria safe.  Daryl took off, leaving Eric on the porch, and headed towards the Armory. On his way, he was stopped by Rick, his face still pelted with healing scratches.

“What’s going on? How did that meeting go?”

“He talks a lot of trash,” remarked Rick. “He also had a small arsenal with a shit-load of ammunition. Apparently he has thousands of rounds, but that could be bullshit.”

“Damn,” hissed Daryl, realizing the threat that Shane’s group presented. “But we have their weapons.”

“Yeah, we do,” replied Rick. “The weapons they wanted to check in, at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have even more guns. Phillip doesn’t come off as very trustworthy.”

“You think he’s a liar?” asked Daryl. “Because I didn’t get that vibe. I got an ‘arrogant prick’ vibe, but that’s all.”

“Yeah, I picked that up too,” said Rick. “You should have heard him, talkin’ like he just _knew_ everything. Deanna bought it, and so did your boy, Aaron.”

“ _My_ boy?” asked Daryl. He didn’t know what Rick meant by that, but he didn’t like it.

Rick could sense the heat building in Daryl, so he tried to defuse his friend. “You know what I mean—your buddy. He told Phillip everything he knew. About us, how he found us, who’s in charge…”

“He just told all that to a stranger?” Daryl was actually surprised that Aaron would make such an egregious error. “I’m looking for him, anyway, ‘cause we need to talk.”

“I think he has his focus on _other_ things, and he isn’t looking at Phillip as a real threat,” Rick said. “And he is a _real_ threat, even without the guns. That vehicle he has—Abraham believes it could be more dangerous than any automatic weapon we have.”

“Then we gotta keep our eyes on them,” said Daryl.

“Damn right,” said Rick. “I’m taking the people for a quick run-through at the quarry. We only have forty-eight hours to get this right; we can’t risk any errors. I’m going to need you to stay here.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed to two tight slits with cerulean marbles, and the corners of his mouth quickly frowned as he turned away from Rick.  Rick could tell from Daryl’s body language that he didn’t agree with his plan. “What good is it, keeping me here?”

“Daryl, we don’t know enough about these people; I need you to be my eyes here.” Rick erased the distance between the two men, getting closer to Daryl’s ear, and continued, “Carol will be the only one here to help keep her eyes on things. Carl and Judith are here, and I’m going to be _there_. I need you for this.”

Daryl was sold when Rick brought up Carol. Besides, he wanted to talk to her as well. “Fine, I’ll stay.”

“Good, especially since Shane is up,” said Rick.

“So that’s the real reason,” replied Daryl.

Rick didn’t like how Daryl referred to Shane as the “real” reason Rick would want him to stay back. But Rick would argue about this another day; he needed to get the people ready. “Yeah, Shane may be up, but he’s not in the game. Phillip is the one we need to worry about, and perhaps even that kid, Henry.”

“That’s what we do now, Rick?” asked Daryl. “We kill kids, now?”

“We were gonna kill Randall.” Rick concluded the conversation with that statement before walking away from Daryl, rather abruptly.  Daryl was taken aback by the brashness of Rick’s words. Granted, Sheriff Grimes hadn’t been the friendliest since the events of the prison, but Daryl had never seen him quite this way.

Daryl needed to see Aaron; he wanted to know what Aaron had told Phillip and, more importantly, why. The archer noticed that Phillip and Aaron were near the infirmary, yucking it up like they had no cares in the world. Daryl cut his eyes at the two before marching over to confront them.

“The hell’s so funny over here?” asked Daryl, heavily agitated already.

“Morning, Daryl,” Aaron greeted with his trademark, friendly smile. “I didn’t see you leave this morning—”

“Aaron, why you tellin’ this guy all our _fucking_ business?” Daryl cut off Aaron; he didn’t have time for Aaron acting cute. Daryl wanted some straight answers, no bullshit.

“Hello, my name is Phillip Marco, and I’m _sort of_ a big deal,” replied the soldier nastily.

Daryl ignored Phillip. The last “Phillip” Daryl had come across was The Governor, so he had very little patience for for another one. “What makes you want to tell him all our business? You don’t even know him.”

“Uhh, ‘ _him’_ is standing right here,” Phillip replied. “Aaron, what’s the guy’s malfunction?”

“Daryl, why are you upset? I didn’t say anything—” but before Aaron could finish his thought, Daryl cut him off again.

“You shouldn’t have told them _anything_! _”_ Daryl’s voice was aggressive, but it never rose from his normal low, smoky tone.

Phillip decided to use this little tiff between Aaron and Daryl to move two squares forward. “For a man that reeks of horse shit, you really aren’t friendly,” said Phillip.

“Phillip, it’s ok, I shouldn’t have—” Aaron attempted to defend Daryl, but he was interrupted, this time by Phillip.

“Aaron has done everything for you and your _very_ ungrateful crew. So don’t you come over here and try to intimidate him. You’re not scary; you’re just gross. Now, I may not have my guns, but I will still fuck your shit up.”

“You think so?” Daryl said, stepping forward confrontationally.

Aaron shimmied himself between the two men.

“Honey, I _know_ so,” replied Phillip. Phillip could see the storm in Daryl’s eyes; he knew one little push would be enough to take him over the edge. The sadomasochist in Phillip urged him to push a little further, but the soldier decided to play nice.

Daryl wanted to knock Phillip’s teeth out, but if he tried, Phillip would have to use his _secret weapon_. The two men were only seconds from clashing, but before Daryl could release his rage, Phillip changed the flow of the conversation.  “Aaron, Shane’s up. I want him to meet you.”

When Daryl realized that Shane was conscious, his ears perked with excitement. Aaron was somewhat surprised that Phillip would let anyone near Shane, especially after yesterday’s events. “I think he would love you, Aaron,” Phillip said, batting his eyes with a kittenish flair. “Besides, he wants to thank you; he told me, himself.”

“Absolutely,” replied Aaron, “I think it would a good change in tone, don’t you think?” Aaron cut his eyes briefly to a scowling Daryl. “Daryl, man, we will talk. We will.” Aaron’s voice was reassuring. He didn’t want Daryl to think just because there were new people, that Aaron and the rest of Alexandria had forgotten about Rick and his group. But in truth, Aaron had. For the last twenty-four hours, everything in his life had been about Shane’s group, and Aaron hadn’t even gotten a chance to really talk to Daryl about their arrival. Daryl’s and Aaron’s closeness was being threatened, and Daryl didn’t like it.

Daryl’s face was hard and emotionless; he used this poker face to hide his hurt. Daryl had never been good at expressing emotions, especially jealousy. He could only recall two incidents when he’d ever been jealous: Once, when he was eleven, and all the kids at school had their fathers show up for a “Father-Son Dinner” sponsored by the school, and he had to go with his slightly-older brother, Merle. The second time Daryl had experienced such envy was now, as Aaron and Phillip walked into the infirmary together, leaving him alone in the middle of the Alexandrian road.

 

 **“** Hey, Aaron **!”** Henry exclaimed when Phillip and Aaron entered the dark, makeshift hospital. Henry’s face was warm and friendly, a stark contrast to the automatic-rifle-wielding scowl he had presented the day before.

Aaron noticed Shane, who was sitting up in his hospital bed, shirtless, eating canned peaches. His torso was wrapped tightly and his wound was packed with gauze. Shane’s eyes caught Aaron’s, and he smiled broadly. “So, this is the man that saved my life.”

“I helped,” added Phillip, facetiously.

“Yeah, but _this man_ right here, he got us to a safe place. He made all this possible. So I want to thank you. Thank you for saving my life.” Shane placed the canned fruit on his lap and extended his hand to Aaron. Aaron graciously shook Shane’s hand.

“You probably would have done the same thing for us,” replied the ever-courteous Aaron.

 _I wouldn’t bet on it, buddy_ , thought Shane. Not that Shane didn’t care about people, but he wouldn’t risk his life nor the lives of Henry or Phillip for a stranger. Shane and his group had lost so much before coming to Alexandria, but thanks to Aaron, not _all_ was lost.

“You know, it’s dangerous out there,” said Shane. “Good people are far and few these days. So seeing a good face and being in a good place, that’s definitely a point for the good guys.”

“Who did that to you?” Aaron was referring to the gunshot wound.

“Couldn’t really tell you. Four guys on motorcycles tried to run us off the road.” He began rubbing the back of his head nervously as he struggled to remember the events that led them to Alexandria. “I remember Phillip was driving, and I tried to return fire from the passenger window. It didn’t end well.”

“Maybe it ended perfectly,” said Henry. “Now we’re here. This place has walls, people, and food.”

“We’re here temporarily,” Phillip reminded Henry. “Shane may just need one more day, and then we’re _the hell_ out of here.”

“I’m hoping you all stay a little longer than that,” said Aaron. “I know you are strong people; I can tell by just looking at you. But I think your friend needs more than two days to recover from a bullet to the chest.”

“We would stay longer, but we have two problems: The first is we don’t have our guns. The dead are walking and eating people, and a handgun could be the difference between life and death. And the lack of firearms segues to our other problem: Rick Grimes.”

“I hear there is bad blood between you two,” replied Aaron.

“ _Oceans_ of bad blood,” clarified Shane. “I don’t expect us hugging-it-out anytime soon. I also hear when I was unconscious, he tried to do a ‘dead-check’ me. Looks like Rick still a pussy.”

Aaron was careful with his words; he already had Daryl pissed at him, so the last thing he needed was Rick also upset. “Rick has been through a lot, and I think everything just overwhelmed him.”

Shane scoffed at that notion. “He ain’t go through no more than we did, and we’re not waving guns in people’s faces.”

“Currently,” added Phillip. “I did threaten to shoot the man’s son.”

“You tried to shoot Carl!” Shane replied with hostility. “What’s your fucking problem, man?”

Phillip cut his eyes at Shane, conveying that they would discuss that in more detail later. “Things got intense; I had no intention of actually shooting anyone.”

“So you know Carl, too,” asked Aaron reflexively, not realizing how silly of a question that was.

“I helped raise Carl,” added Shane.

“He’s quite the kid, and his little sister, Judith—she’s an angel,” added Aaron.

Shane was envious of Aaron; this total stranger had more information than Shane about _his_ daughter. Shane gritted his teeth before saying, “Well, I can’t wait to see the little tyke.”

Aaron then remembered he had some awful news for group, “Rick wanted me to tell you something.”

“Was he too yellow to tell us himself?” asked Shane

“Glenn told me before taking off that Rick would like for you to turn in your keys.” Aaron’s voice trailed because he was sure Phillip’s response would be hostile.

“Oh really,” said Phillip. His tone remained calm, not changing in cadence. “Well, I can’t wait to see Rick.”

“Really?” Aaron was somewhat shocked by how calm Phillip was—even Aaron had thought Rick’s request was absurd.

“Of course; so I can tell him to go fuck himself,” replied the soldier. “Why do you guys let that maniac dominate this place? He’s giving me David Koresh vibes. Don’t you feel it?”

Aaron did “feel” it. Aaron trusted Rick, and he understood why it had had to be done, but ever since Rick had killed Pete, a darkness within him had been revealed. Aaron understood why Phillip didn’t trust Rick, and Phillip wasn’t alone. Many members of Alexandria didn’t trust Rick, and were plotting to end him.

 

Carter was nervous when he was with Rick, especially since, just one day prior, Alexandrians Olivia, Spencer, and Carter had discussed killing Rick. Carter hated Rick’s plan to handle the walker-filled quarry. Carter believed whole-heartedly that the plan wouldn’t work. His scheming had almost gotten interrupted by Eugene, who had almost caught them plotting in the pantry. But Eugene had lost interest in stuffing his face when the PYTHON had pulled into the streets of Alexandria.

Carter talked about taking the community back from Rick, even if it meant killing him. Spencer and Olivia were not exactly on board yet. Spencer was Deanna’s last surviving family member, and one of the only “fighters” of Alexandria. Though somewhat versed in weaponry, Spencer lacked the confidence to take on Rick.

Olivia had a treacherous side that she did her best to mask, but it wasn’t treacherous enough for murder. The three had decided to go along with Rick’s plan, but to abandon him if things went south. Hopefully, the dead would be too busy eating Rick’s group to focus on them.

But there Carter was, listening to Rick drone on and on about what they “need” to do. And how “there isn’t any other way.” Carter really hated the self-righteous tone Rick used. As Rick spoke, Carter scowled, not only due to his hatred for Rick, but also because of the blazing sun. Beneath them were more walkers than Carter had ever seen before. Hundreds of walkers, piled on top of one another, all deposited in the dry, gray quarry.

Carter figured the best way to stay alive was to stick close to Rick. The two men had helped flesh out Rick’s plan, and Rick had developed a respect for Carter’s intelligence and his nerve. Of all the Alexandrians, Carter was one of the few that had vocally challenged Rick. While Rick thought he was possibly developing stronger ties with the people of Alexandria, people like Carter were secretly plotting against him.

“I know this sounds insane, but this is an insane world,” preached Rick. “We have to come for them before they come for us. It's that simple. Tomorrow, this is where it all starts. Tobin gets in the truck, opens the exit, and we're off. He hops out and catches up with his team at red, staying on the west side of the road. Daryl gets on his bike—”

The beige rocks crumbled and the metal skidded as one of the semi-trucks that blocked the horde of the dead tumbled into the quarry. Rick knew that there was no more waiting; the time was now. Dress Rehearsal wasn’t an option; if they wanted to survive, they had to act.

In awe, Rick said, “You see that?  It's open! We got to do this now! We're doing this now! Tobin's group, get moving! Go!”

“No, Rick, we're not ready,” whined the cowardly Carter.

Rick’s ignored Carter’s whining and barked, “Sasha! Abraham!”

The crimson-haired Texan grinned, “Damn straight, we'll do it.”

“You don’t got Daryl; he’s still at Alexandria, so you’re on your own.” Rick hated sending Sasha and Abraham in alone, but there was no other option. “You keep going to the green zone. I’ll keep in contact with you on the horn. I'll hit the tractor in 25.”

“ _Rick_ ,” stretched Abraham, “are you sure this is the play?”

“No other, choice. Let’s move, keep pushing through, no matter what.”

“Rick, I’m sticking with you,” said Carter. “The only way this will work is if we do this together.”

“Alright, then. Keep up,” replied Grimes in a growl.

Rick had changed the plan to fit the current situation, but Carter wasn’t happy with the results. Michonne and Glenn, along with Nicholas and the members of Alexandria would split. Both Carter and Rick dashed towards the tractor, a mile up the road, but the sound of the horn lured more and more of the dead to their path.


	7. Episode Two: Blood On The Walls / Part 1:"The Hunt"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set During Episode 2, the second episode of the sixth season .

**The Walking Dead: -6**

Episode Two: _Blood On The Walls_

Part 1:"The Hunt"

_“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today...”_

-Malcom X

 

 **The** fire was almost out in Sasha. Everything that she believed in was gone. Her brother Tyrese and her late-boyfriend Bob had both been killed by walkers. The latter was mutilated by living-cannibals. The hole in Sasha’s heart expanded and continued to throb and ache. She had wanted to die, still wanted to die. She was trying, trying to stay alive. But it wasn’t the dead that threatened her life; it was lack of will.

Abraham knew about that void, that dark emptiness that loss brought. When his wife and children were raped by the living then murdered by the dead, he too went hallow. The only thing that he could use to fill that cavern within his chest was a lie.

Eugene managed to distract Abraham’s grief with a lie about Eugene being a great scientist, and that the only way to save mankind was to get him to DC. It was a ridiculous tall tale, but it kept Abe going.

Now they were at the same level, and those voids that existed needed something to fill them up again. Sasha’s mocha skin was moist with sweat. Her soft curls were pulled into a bun, exposing the beauty of her face. But her brown eyes had an intense scowl as she slowly drove the rusted Buick followed by a hoard of walkers.

However, Abraham’s face was strangely at ease. His peaches and cream skin tone was vibrant, and his teeth were visible as he broadly smiled. He slouched comfortably in the passenger seat as Sasha slowly drove down the road at a walker’s pace.

The goal was to lure the army of 1100 walkers twenty miles from Alexandria. This plan would have been better with the assistance of Daryl and his bicycle, but they didn’t have that opportunity. It was just the two of them, and the tension was building, but it wasn’t due to the army of zombies that trailed behind them.

“Doesn’t it remind you of the OJ chase?” Abraham asked with a grin on his face.

Sasha slowly turned her head to Abraham, narrowed her eyes and replied only with, “What?”

“Now I know I got a few years on you, but I know you know who OJ Simpson was. There was a low speed chase—”

“I remember, Abraham,” Sasha interjected. “So what?”

Abraham shrugged before taking a quick sip from his flask, “Just trying to make conversation, little lady. Just making conversation.”

Sasha could be very hostile, and that was part of the reason why Abraham was drawn to her. She never bit her tongue or backed down. He loved a lady with balls, _figuratively_.

“What do you make of those people?” asked Abe.

“They’re trouble,” answered Sasha, her voice monotone.

“No shit, little lady,” replied Abraham. “Besides the obvious, what do you think of them?”

Sasha decided to speak her mind, regardless of the consequences. “I don’t like how Rick changed when they arrived. He became unhinged.”

“Look who’s talking,” teased Abraham before taking another sip from his flask.

“I’m serious, Abraham. I’ve seen Rick like this before. When we first met him, he was shouting, aggressively, waving his gun around. But the kicker was, he wasn’t even talking to us. He was talking to ghosts, invisible people.”

“You think Rick’s brains have turned into monkey shit: one part bananas, one part coconuts?” asked Abraham.

Sasha lightly shrugged, “I hope not. We all can’t go crazy up in here.”

“You talking like you’re scared,” Abraham slyly added before taking another shot of Jim Bean from his flask.

“I'm not afraid of _anything_ ,” Sasha retorted.

“You get scared of yourself when you’re wild like that. When you’re all unbridled and pissed off you know you can turn into quite the hurricane. That’s what _you’re_ afraid of, that dark part of your mind. You are all too familiar with that.”

Abraham was right, and it pissed of Sasha how right he was. And if Rick was anywhere near the darkness that hid in her mind then the entire group could be in trouble.

***

 **Henry** finally was able to leave the infirmary, Shane was conscious and Phillip sat with him. Henry took it upon himself to get some much needed air. It was a good day to get some fresh air, the sun was bright and the late spring afternoon was ideal for a stroll. Phillip decided to take the large mastiff for a walk. Buster was becoming bored with staying inside all day.

As Henry walked down the road, he saw another teen pushing a small baby carriage. The dark-haired boy’s blue eyes caught Henry, but his face lacked any expression. It was the kid from earlier. Henry tried his best to remember the boy’s name, but everything went blank. And then like lightening, it hit him.

“Carl!” Henry called out.

“Yeah,” Carl dryly responded.

“I’m sorry we had to pull guns on you guys earlier,” Henry said, earnestly. “It’s not exactly how we would have wanted to meet. It’s just we had lost so many people, and we couldn’t lose Shane too.”

Hearing a stranger talk about Shane like he was family was bizarre to Carl. But Carl likened Henry’s connection with Shane to the connection he felt with people like Glenn, Michonne, and Carol.

“It’s okay. No one got shot.”

“No, bro. We were assholes for that.”

“My dad sorta started it,” replied Carl.

Both young men were trying their best to take responsibility for yesterday’s events. Interestingly enough, the two youngest males of the opposing groups happened to be the most mature. 

“I’m Henry, BTW. And this _wolf_ is Buster.” Henry scrubbed the top of Buster’s head lovingly and the black dog affectionately responded  by playfully gnawing and licking his hand.

“He’s your dog?” Carl kept his distance from the dog and kept his hand on the stroller’s handle.

“Not really. He was actually Austin and Phillip’s,” answered Henry. “I’m thinking he’s just Phillip’s since Austin is sorta…dead.”

Carl could see in Henry’s eyes that whoever Austin was, he had been dear to him. “Was it recently? Your friend...did it just happen?”

Henry shrugged, his head lowered, “I don’t know, maybe three days ago. He and my sister Nancy both went on the same day; it was a really bad day.”

“Sorry to hear about that,” replied Carl. As sympathetic as Carl was about Henry’s losses, he was more curious about Shane. Carl decided to change the energy of the conversation. “When did you meet Shane?”

“Last year,” said Henry. “Last year it was me, my brother Jake, my dad, and my sister Nancy. We actually met Shane, Phillip and Austin inside of a K-Mart. It’s actually a crazy story—”

Before Henry could really go into his origin story, Carol called out, “Carl!” Carol was suspicious of Henry, Phillip and even Shane. She didn’t want Carl gallivanting with Henry or his mutant dog. But Carl didn’t immediately respond. He pretended like he didn’t hear Carol. Carol wouldn’t be ignored, so she decided to walk over to Carl and his friend.

“Carl, didn’t you hear me calling you?” asked Carol as she approached the teens. Her voice was warm and motherly.

“Oh, Henry, this is my friend, Carol,” Carl introduced, bashfully.

“Bro, you have friends that are thirty?” Henry whispered to Carl, but Carol still overheard him.

Carol couldn’t help but smirk, especially since she was actually forty-eight. “Hello there.” She shook Henry’s hand. “That’s a very big dog you have there. Does he have a name?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mouthful: ‘Buster “The Dog” Atkins-Marco’. He’s really smart, watch this!”

Henry went down a few simple commands for Buster: sitting, laying down, rolling over, and even “speaking”. Carol, a dog lover, was impressed by how trained and friendly Buster was.

“It’s good you trained him so well,” remarked Carol.

“He’s actually not mine. He’s Phillip's. I’m just taking him for a walk.”

“Well it was nice meeting you,” Carol said, invoking faux friendliness. “Carl, I’m going to start on dinner soon. Be home in an hour. Don’t spend all day with your friend.”

“We just met,” Carl replied.

“Mmhmm,” Carol replied. “Let me take Judith. You go be a normal teenager for once.”

Carol wanted to keep her eye on Carl and Henry, but she knew hovering over Carl wouldn’t help matters. She figured she could easily watch him from the kitchen window. Besides, Carl could handle himself.

***

 **Shane** was able to walk around without much physical agitation. He took advantage of his physical improvement by pacing around in the infirmary. There was so much on his mind, Rick's return and the revelation of Judith was already plenty to ingest. Compounded with the deaths of Lori, Nancy and Austin, Shane found himself riddled with anxiety.

Shane was knee-deep in thought while he paced the small medical room when Phillip entered.

“Hey, fuck-face, you’re supposed to be resting.” Phillip wanted Shane to rest and resting required him off his feet.

“I can’t rest. There is too much going on out there. Where’s Rick? I’m surprised he hasn’t made a return visit.”

“He’s gone,” replied Phillip. “He and like fifteen people took off. They didn’t really tell me anything.”

“What about Aaron? Did he tell you anything interesting?” drilled Shane.

“He was a little vague about the details. He clearly didn’t want to share. But, hey, I’ve got a back up plan if any of these people get too jumpy.” Phillip may have turned in a majority of their weapons, but the slick New Yorker always kept a wild card in his back pocket. “Where’s Henry?”

“He took the dog for a walk.”

Shane walked over to the window, which was covered only by navy-colored curtains. With his index finger and one eye, Shane scanned the sunny Alexandrian neighborhood. Shane’s eyes  dilated when he saw Carl and Henry chatting, merely yards away.

“Carl.”

Shane’s voice was somber and wounded. Shane loved Carl, had loved him since the boy was born. In many ways, Henry and his brother Jake filled the void left in Shane’s heart when he separated from Carl. But after Jake and Stu were devoured by walkers two months earlier, a shadow appeared in Shane’s heart. Shane’s pain ran deep, and after Nancy and the baby’s death sent him over the edge, Shane learned to control his rage. He learned that little technique from Phillip.

“What going on out there?” asked Phillip.

“Nothing, Phil,” replied Shane, vaguely. “Just Carl and Henry outside talking.”

“ _Well, I’ll be damned_ _,_ ” said Phillip. “Looks like the pipsqueak is finally learning how to properly infiltrate. I’m so proud; you know what? They grow up so fast.”

Shane could sense how pleased Phillip was with himself. “Hate to take a wet dump on your cloud, but it looks like they’re just talking.”

“About what?”

“Like I can actually hear what they’re saying,” Shane lightly retorted. “Got some good news, though.”

“I’m all ears. Whatcha got for me, Sheriff Walsh?”

Shane, his eye still glued on the activities outside, dug into his waistband and retrieved a dark gray Glock 43. Shane abandoned the window and turned his attention to Phillip. Shane quickly checked the clip.

“It’s fully loaded.”

“Great, now if we plan on robbing a stage coach then maybe—”

“Save all the fucking satire, man,” Shane hushed. “You’re the one who gave up all our weapons.”

“It wasn’t all of them—it was _a lot_ of them.”

“And this is all we got now,” said Shane. “A fucking pistol.”

“A _fucking_ pistol, twenty grenades, twenty-one flash bangs, four M-16s, thousands of rounds, and oh yeah, the PYTHON. _We’re_ fine.”

“Yeah, you plan on carrying all that around?” asked Shane. “Only thing you could sneak in your pocket is a grenade. Nothing is stopping them for putting a bullet in your head.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Phillip dismissed the idea that he was in danger. As antagonistic Rick was, Phillip didn’t get an overtly evil vibe from Rick. Phillip, while working for ATLAS, had encountered many dictators and bloodthirsty warlords. Rick followed Deanna’s lead too closely to be an unbridled killer. But still, Phillip had no intentions of lowering his guard.

Shane walked over to Phillip, who sat in the hospital bed where Shane had spent the last twenty-two hours. Shane placed the hand gun in Phillip’s hand. “Here, take it.”

“I don’t need it.”

“ _No_ ,” Shane said assertively. “Take it! You’re the one out there, dealing with Rick and his people. Phillip, he’s dangerous. He may not look it, but Rick is capable of anything.”

“I agree. That’s why you should keep this. I can handle myself, and _you_ know that. You can handle _yourself_ ; but just in case, I’m going to need you to hold on to this.” Phillip placed the pistol back in Shane’s hand.

Phillip rose from the hospital bed and places his hand on Shane’s shoulder. “I’m going to go for a walk, just check out the place. Get some rest.”

“Phillip, wait.” The soldier is stopped right before turning the doorknob. Phillip briefly turned to Shane. “Give ‘em hell.”

Shane nodded affirmatively; Shane trusted Phillip’s judgment even if he didn’t agree with everything Phillip did. That ultimately was the major difference in the type of relationship Phillip and Shane had, and what Shane and Rick had. Shane believed Rick’s nobility clouded his decisions and always had. Shane had years and years of data to back up his belief, so anything Rick did looked weak in Rick’s eyes.

Phillip, however, was more of a mystery, which Shane liked. When Shane had met Phillip and Austin, he didn’t know what to make of them, but after watching the two men in action, he learned that they were quite the team. They were strong, tactful, and brave men who made the hard decisions even when it made them look like the villain. Phillip never worried how others viewed him or his actions because no matter how dark, they were rooted in good. Shane was the same.

As Phillip exited the infirmary, he did a quick visual sweep of the neighborhood. He was looking for Aaron but could only find Daryl Dixon.

Dixon struggled to smoke a hand-rolled cigarette that was too loose to actually smoke. Phillip was a casual smoker of tobacco, especially if he was out of marijuana.

“Hey, want a _real cigarette_?” asked Phillip.

Dixon’s puffy blue eyes caught Phillip’s. The archer scoffed and resumed his feeble attempts to smoke his handmade cigarette.

Daryl’s back was against a brick home, but he was somewhat hidden by the shadows. Phillip read his body language, Daryl came off like a rejected soul. Ostracized and alone, Phillip could smell Daryl’s vulnerability.

Phillip decides to walk over to Daryl, who was now scowling at Phillip. The soldier ignored Dixon’s nasty stare and casually retrieved a pack of Marlboro 100's and lit up. The smell of menthol-free smoke tickled Daryl’s nose and like a hare, his nostrils pulsated.

“I get it,” said Phillip. “We don’t gotta be _paisans_. Besides, it’s just a cigarette.”

Dixon reluctantly accepted, and Phillip passed Daryl his silver Zippo. Daryl quickly lit, however, he still noticed the artwork on the lighter. There was a seal engraved deep into the metal. It was a two-headed owl using its talons to kill a cobra. It looked like something Daryl or his brother Merle would have gotten tatted on.

“What’s that?”

Phillip shrugged. “It’s a military thing.”

“You know he won’t let you stay long,” Daryl said, immediately shifting the conversation. “Rick and Shane, they’ll never get along.”

“It’s to be expected,” replied Phillip. “After Lori and the baby, I doubt Shane would ever forgive Rick or he Shane. It doesn’t matter though, we leave first thing in the morning.”

Daryl scoffed. “You think Shane’s just gonna leave? Don’t you know think he’ll just walk away, do you?”

Phillip narrowed his eyes. “What are you jawing about?”

“Shane lost everything, and from the sounds of it, he recently lost even more. If you think Shane is just gonna walk away after finding Judith then you don’t know Shane.” Dixon inhaled the smoke deeply, and through the tightness of his eyes Daryl could see the distress in Phillip’s eyes.

“Here,” Phillip said before tossing him the box of cigarettes. “You can keep the rest.”

Daryl looked suspicious. “Why?

“I owe you for bringing us here— _thank you_ ,” replied Phillip. “You can’t have my zippo, though.”

***

The raven-haired girl caught both Carl and Henry’s attention simultaneously. Enid had that effect on boys. The mystery behind the darkness of her eyes highlighted her vulnerability. She supplemented this by being externally cold and disconnected. Ron, her boyfriend, could sense that.

Ron was sixteen but emotionally trapped at age twelve. In a child’s life, four more years could mean the difference between maturity and immaturity. In Ron’s case, he couldn’t see the world beyond his own hurt.

A dark beanie covered Ron’s blonde hair, and his face was obscured by his fingers. Both he and Enid sat alone discussing their disintegrating relationship. Ron sat silently, seething at the thought of Rick and his son Carl.

“Are you going to say— _anything_?” asked Enid.

Ron cut his blue eyes at Enid. “What do you expect me to say? He killed my dad! That man, Rick, he murdered him, and he’s allowed to walk around here. I could kill him.”

“Ron...”

Enid reached for Ron’s shoulder, but he sharply disconnected from her, leaving Enid on the grassy earth alone. As he stormed off, Enid watched solemnly. Enid was already broken. Ron Anderson couldn’t cause any more damage. That moment, Enid knew that Alexandria was not her home.

Enid had arrived at the gates of Alexandria ninety days prior, and for three weeks she spoke not a word. The fifteen year old was haunted by the images of her parents being devoured by walkers. Enid was forced to put down her parents before they could reanimate and join the hoard of never-ending zombies. Those cuts never healed. Her eyes, her gloomy, brown eyes captured Carl’s heart—even if he hadn’t realized it yet.

“Who’s she?” asked Henry. Enid was the first girl Henry had seen in months.

“Enid,” answered Carl as he continued to admire her face. “And that guy she was with—that’s Ron.”

“She’s very…” Henry, still discovering the mysteries of puberty, searched for a word to describe his feelings. “Nice. I mean...she seems nice.”

“You think so?” asked Carl. “She’s only said five words to me.”

Henry playfully shove Carl. “Maybe _you_ just don’t know how to talk to her.”

Carl thought about Henry’s words for a second before giving him a friendly push. “Shut up. What do you know anyway?”

“I know how to talk to girls.”

“Then prove it!” countered Carl.

Carl called Henry’s bluff beautifully, but luckily for him, Henry’s loud roaring tummy stole Carl’s attention. The sound was so loud that Carl’s right eyebrow rose with shock. “Was that you?”

“We’ve been rationing our food,” confessed Henry. “It’s not a lot left.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner? Carol is a really good cook. She can make almost anything taste good.”

“Hell, yeah!” replied Henry. “I should probably ask Phillip or Shane first.” But then like lightening it hit Henry—he didn't have to ask for permission anymore. Austin was the leader, not Shane or Phillip; adding the death of Nancy, Henry felt like he had the authority to make his own decision.

“Scratch that. Let’s just go eat, bro.”

Carl led Henry and Buster back to the home that Carl shared with his father Rick, sister Judith, Michonne and Carol. Henry was shocked at how normal the home looked. Almost every house Henry had entered since the fall of man was always ransacked and disorganized. But in Carl’s house, Henry recaptured the normality the fourteen year old had lost months ago.

“You guys have a nice house,” remarked Henry.

Henry should know, he grew up in Santa Monica, a ritzy beach city in LA. But the brownstone where the Grimes’ resided made his home look rather meager.

“It’s not really ours,” said Carl. “We’re just...we’re just here, I guess.” Carl could hear Carol enter the living from the kitchen.

“Hello, Henry,” Carol greeted, but she was on high alert. Carol knew that if Rick was here, Henry wouldn’t have stepped a foot inside of this home. “Carl, does Rick know about your guest?”

“He's just staying for dinner. I told him _you_ were a good cook,” Carl said, compounding a compliment into his sneaky act.

“You should have really asked your father,” chastised Carol. Her body language became stiff and less warm.

Henry could sense that he wasn’t wanted. “Carl, I should probably take off. I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“No,” Carol defused, adopting her doting housewife persona. “Just make sure you take that dog outside and clean up after him. The mess that he leaves is probably enormous.”

“So he can stay?” pressed Carl.

“Sure. _I_ made enough for another person,” Carol confessed. “How’s Shane doing over there?”

“He’s up and eating up all our food, as usual,” said Henry. “Granted it’s mostly protein bars at this point.”

Carol held fondness for Shane; she still remembered the day that Shane came to her defense from her abusive husband. Shane was a good man, in Carol’s opinion, even if things turned sour between him and Rick.

“I’ll see if I can cook up another casserole for Shane and your other friend.”

***

Phillip had circled the safe zone multiple times. He was very curious how the walls of Alexandria were still standing. More importantly, he wanted to know how this group was able to flourish. Phillip noticed that the rusted iron walls of Alexandria were the only thing keeping the dead out. There was a large tower that served as lookout. Phillip was curious to know who was the eye in the sky watching Alexandria.

The tower was somewhat shoddy, in Phillip’s opinion. The stairs were slanted and jagged pieces of steel were exposed inside of the lookout tower. Phillip was somewhat pleasantly surprised when he made it to the top.

“Who are you?” asked Spencer, holding his assault rifle tightly pointing it at the soldier’s chest.

“And hello to you, too,” Phillip said sarcastically. “You guys have an awful welcoming committee. I haven’t been here forty-eight hours, and that is the fourth gun pulled on me.”

“You’re one of those people from that Humvee,” Spencer replied.

“I usually go by Phillip,” replied the soldier.

Phillip took a hard look at Spencer. He stood roughly six foot three with a lean, athletic build. Phillip speculated he was about thirty-two years of age. Spencer had dark hair, over grown hair with natural honey highlights, and a strong jawline with short facial hair shadowing his face. He was a very handsome man, but there was something off about him, and Phillip could sense it.

“You don’t look familiar, at all,” declared Phillip.

“Should I?” retorted Spencer, in a somewhat rude manner.

“According to _your mama_ ,” replied Phillip, slyly. “Deanna’s your mom right?”

“Yes, but why would I know _you_?” Spencer's dark eyes narrowed at Phillip.

“I told her the exact same thing,” replied Phillip with a small chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. Phillip inspected the handsomeness of Spencer’s face and smirked, reflexively. “Don’t trip, Spencer. My mom was a senator. Apparently your mom knew my mom, or something. Deanna even said we met at some Washington dinner. I couldn’t have been older than eight at the time.”

“Am I supposed to remember that?” replied Spencer. He was doing his best to be externally tough, but secretly he was slightly intimidated.

“No, you aren’t _expected_ to remember, but you don’t have to be a twat about it either.” Phillip erased the gap between him and Spencer, which made Spencer step backwards. Spencer may have lowered his gun, but he still held it close. “And who are you supposed to be? Rick is the enforcer here. You his purse holder?”

“I don’t work for Rick,” replied Spencer. “I help keep this place safe, keep walkers from getting through this wall, and recently, housing ungrateful refugees.”

“Ooh, he’s testy and cute,” replied Phillip.

The compliment made Spencer incredibly uncomfortable for a gambit of reasons, and Phillip could read the anxiety in Spencer’s eyes. Spencer could feel his heartbeat race and heat build in his chest cavity.

The silence grew thick, and Spencer’s body language exposed his anxiety. “Look, I’m just meeting the locals. It’s a very occasion rare that I get to meet people.”

“Have you met Aaron?” Spencer decided to direct Phillip to the only out-gay he knew in Alexandria. “He and Eric…”

“Yes, I’ve met the _Adam and Steve_ ,” replied Phillip. “They seem alright. Not exactly my type, but they make for good conversation.” Phillip’s eyes traveled to the large assault rifle that Spencer held. “Big piece. Can I hold it?”

“I’m keeping look out; hard to keep look out if I don’t have a gun,” replied Spencer.

Phillip let out a small chuckle, stepping forward, erasing even more space between them. “I wasn’t talking about the—”

The sound of shattering glass and screams stole the two men's attention. Flames from a Molotov cocktail engulfed an adjacent wall. Spencer’s body wilted at the sight of the explosion, but Phillip remained firm. His hazel eyes tightened, and Phillip's eyes intensified.

He knew what was going on—Alexandria was under attack.

 

 

 


	8. Episode Two: Blood On The Walls / Part 2:"Lupo."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set During Episode 2, the second episode of the sixth season .

**The Walking Dead: -6**

Episode Two: _Blood On The Walls_

Part 2:"Lupo."

**Five Minutes Prior**

Daryl needed a light. He had used all his matches and was in need of another cigarette. He looked up when he heard Aaron call out his name.

“Hey, Daryl, can we talk?” asked Aaron, the blueness of his eyes looked low and ashamed. “About this whole ‘Shane and Phillip’ thing.”

Daryl was still pissed at Aaron, and he was not able to explode on him yet. “Rick told me you was talking to him—talking to him about _us_.”

“Nothing that was too sensitive. At least I didn’t think it was,” Aaron replied.

“Like what? What did you tell them?” drilled Dixon.

“Just that we found you and your people, and we brought you to Alexandria,” replied Aaron, his voice was defensive and defiant.

Daryl read Aaron’s body language. His chest was somewhat protruded and his right hand was on his hip. Aaron wasn’t backing down from Dixon. This was a stark contrast to the passive, meek Aaron that Dixon had met weeks earlier.

“You sure that’s _all_ you told them?”

“I would never put _you_ or your people in danger,” replied Aaron. “You know that. At least you should.”

Daryl nodded affirmatively. “You’re right. You’re a good man, Aaron. It's just between Shane and quarry, things couldn’t be worse.”

“I don’t know. Shane seems sort of...nice,” countered Aaron.

“Shane, _nice_?” echoed Dixon. “If you say so. I really need a light. Got any matches or something?”

“I don’t smoke, Daryl,” replied Aaron before placing his hand on Daryl’s bare, muscled shoulder. “Eric still sneaks a cigarette or two when he thinks I’m not looking. Let me see if he has a book of matches.”

“Yeah, man, Phillip just gave me a pack of cigarettes.” Dixon wasn’t sure why he gave that little detail to Aaron. However, Aaron did know why—it was Daryl’s unconscious way of saying that Phillip was alright.

“Did he?” replied Aaron. “And I’m sure you said thank you.”

“Enough chattin’. Get those matches. I need a light,” chastised Daryl.

They heard the sound of smashing glass, and a large fireball brightened the afternoon’s sky. A Molotov cocktail was thrown, followed by another that smashed against the walls of Alexandria. The explosion stole Aaron and Daryl’s attention.

“Back up!” demanded Daryl as another cocktail exploded against the walls.

Aaron defensively removed his six-shooter but complied with Daryl's order. Dixon aimed his crossbow, searching for the source of the attack.

The two men stood in the alley of Alexandria, hidden only by a wooden gate. Through a crack, Dixon’s blue eyes waited for an unidentified body.

“Do you see anything?” asked Aaron.

“Nah, nothin’ yet,” replied Dixon.

Dixon heard Aaron scream behind him. A male figure, his dark skin covered in filth and a “ **W** ” carved into his forehead, drove a blade into Aaron’s shoulder. A river of crimson blood flowed from Aaron's wound.

Daryl spun and fired his bow, a bolt impaling the man’s left eye. Daryl caught Aaron as he fell. He had to get him to the infirmary.

The wolves had arrived.

***

 **Shane** heard screaming, but when he dreamed, he always heard screaming. He learned a little trick for ignoring those voices from Phillip, who too suffered from PTSD.  He would begin to imagine the loudest rock music he could, the sound of the music would drown out the screams.Shane's eyes remained closed as two Wolves  entered the infirmary.

The creak of the infirmary door followed by the echo of footsteps brought Shane to life. Shane, however, kept his eyes closed .As his body lay covered by a thin, white sheet,he used his right hand to grasp the handle of the dark-colored Glock 43 Phillip had left him.

The two Wolves were male, their clothes tattered and covered in filth. Though Caucasian, their skin was coated with a layer of filth and grime. Both men look roughly thirty with medium builds. The wolves didn’t have names anymore—names were for the living. And in the mind of the wolves, everyone was dead already—they just didn’t know it yet.

One of the Wolves removed a large hunting knife from his waistband as he approached the resting Shane. “Just stay still. Stay perfectly… still.” The wolf’s voice was shaky with an almost whimsical tone.

The Wolf raised the blade over Shane’s head, preparing to strike, but Walsh quickly revealed his pistol and fired. The bullet slammed into the wolf's face. Shane sat ups, aimed his pistol and fired two rounds into the chest of the other wolf.

Both Wolves fell to the ground dead. Shane quickly popped out of bed. He wasn’t sure what was going on just yet, and he didn’t have the luxury of doing too much investigating. Shane quickly searched the wolves for guns and only found knives and more filth.

He'd been hoping to at least find bullets, seeing that he already used three of the fifteen bullets in the Glock. He had to find Henry and Carl. Shane was confident wherever Phillip was, he was handling himself.

Before he left, he finished off the last wolf by shooting him in the brain as he exited the infirmary.

***

In the lookout tower, Phillip could hear the commotion from the wolves' attack, but he could only see the outside walls of Alexandria.

“What in the hell was that?” asked Spencer, who watched Phillip closely.

“I don’t know, genius,” replied Phillip. “Do you **_not_** see me standing here, with _you_?”

Roaring in the distance, a large semi barreled towards the walls of Alexandria.

“Son of a—”Spencer aimed his gun and began firing at the moving truck. Phillip observed Spencer’s poor aim and assumed that he wasn’t trying hard enough.

 “Dude, he’s right in front of you!” chastised Phillip. “Shoot em, already!”

“Shut up! You’re distracting me,” barked Spencer.

He focused on the windshield and managed to fire several rounds at the driver. One slug plunged into the throat and eye of the driver, killing him almost instantly. The driver’s dead foot remained on the accelerator, forcing the truck to plow right into Alexandria's wall. The explosive thud from the truck's impact thundered throughout the community,  followed by the annoyingly loud blare of the truck’s horn.

 “What was that all about?” Phillip asked.

“Did you do this?!” Spencer aimed his rifle, shouting over the horn. “Are _you_ behind this?”

Phillip’s hazel eyes turned dead as he peered deep into Spencer’s eyes. “Get that gun out of my face before I force-feed you every round in the clip.”

Spencer kept his aim steady. “I’m not scared of you!”

The horn still blared as Phillip slowly approached Spencer, who reflexively raised his gun. Phillip got so close that the barrel of the assault rifle touched his chest. He waited a moment, his eyes locked intimately with Spencer. He could sense Spencer’s reluctance and more importantly his fear.

With his right index, Phillip moved the barrel away slowly. With a small scoff he said, “Yes, you are.”

Phillip turned his head and began to exit the lookout station.

“Where are you going?” asked Spencer.

“Something is going on out there. I hear screams but no gunshots. I got an itching suspicion that whoever these people are, they aren’t packing any heat. If they were, it would sound like Fallujah out there. If that’s the case, then we’re on an equal playing field”

“You’re going out there _alone_?” asked Spencer.

“I guess that’s your not-so-subtle way of saying you’re not coming with.”

Spencer didn’t reply, only lowered his head shamefully. He was too crippled by that fear to thrust himself into a fight with an unknown amount of enemies. But this wasn’t new for Phillip. Guerrilla warfare was his specialty.

“Do something about that horn, will you? Last thing we need is a bunch of walkers at our walls.”

Armed only with his two bowie knives, Phillip headed down the narrow stairs of the tower. When he finally made it out, he was greeted with absolute pandemonium. Over thirty Wolves had invaded the Alexandria Safe-Zone. The wolves were brutal, using mostly blunt weapons to smash and slash their victims.

Between the smoke and commotion, Phillip struggled to stay focused, but his ears still worked. Phillip’s acute hearing picked up the sound of feet sneaking behind him. _Big mistake,_ thought Phillip. The soldier grabbed his left bowie knife and slashed the figure behind him. The blade tore the flesh off Phillip’s victim's face.

When Phillip turned around, he saw the bleeding face of a male wolf. The arching cut stretched from his cheek to his left eye.

“That’s probably gonna leave a mark.”

Without warning, Phillip ended the wolf by diving his blade into the man’s brain.

Phillip scanned the streets of Alexandria. Up the street near the infirmary, two wolves mercilessly kicked a male Alexandrian. Phillip darted in their direction to assist the fallen Alexandrian. Before he could reach them, an arrow through the forehead neutralized one of the Wolves. The other Wolves startled, giving Phillip enough time to throw his bowie knife, which caught the wolf in the chest.

Daryl and a bleeding Aaron met Phillip, and they assisted the Alexandrian to his feet.

“You okay, Dan?” asked Aaron.

“What’s happening?” the older African American man asked. The cuts in his scalp had dyed the gray of his hair red with his own blood. “The world is ending.”

“No, Danny-Boy,” replied Phillip. “The world already ended. We gotta get you inside of the infirmary.” Phillip then looked at the oozing gash on Aaron’s shoulder. “You too.”

 

**Five Minutes Earlier**

Carol had evolved over the last two years. After the death of her daughter Sophia, a void had grown in the woman. Carol, naturally warm, organically nurturing, had turned cold. She was hardened by the lives she had taken since the world had ended, but even though her actions were justified, they still haunted her. Being on the road with Rick may have been the only thing that saved her. She could have survived without him, but she would have lost herself.

Since moving to the Alexandria Safe-Zone, Carol struggled with keeping up her act as the everyday American housewife. Much like Phillip, she played a role to blend into the community while simultaneously keeping her watchful eyes on everyone.

The people of Alexandria were starting to grow on Carol. Initially she had dismissed them as “children who need stories” to cope with their current situation. But now she saw them as her neighbors, neighbors she could have had before the dead began to walk. They were weak, but so was she before she was taught to be strong. People are _born_ strong.

Carol had finished making a second casserole for Shane and his group. She slid the casserole in the oven and set a timer for forty-five minutes.

Outside of her window, she could see another Alexandrian named Shelly in her front yard smoking a cigarette. Carol was pleased that Shelly was actually taking her advice of not smoking in the home. Granted Carol would have preferred she had stopped smoking all together.

Carol still appreciated the fact that her words reached Shelly. A small smirk emerged in the corner of Carol’s mouth. The gray-haired, pixy cut Carol started to check on Judith, but in the corner of her eye she saw a large man wielding a machete run pass Shelly and slash her. The blade cut through her left ribcage and down her hip. The rotund man turned around and finished his attack by driving his blade through Shelly’s scalp.

Carol was horrified. “Carl!” Carol screamed.

Both Carl and Henry emerged from the living room, Henry appeared more rattled whereas Carl seemed more assertive.  Carl held a dark steel assault rifle. “What’s going on out there?”

“People are attacking us,” replied Carol.

Carol rushed to retrieve her hunting knife and marched over to Henry. Though only five foot six and 122 pounds, Carol managed to pin the six-foot tall teen to the wall of the kitchen.

She placed the blade to his throat. “Are you behind this?!”

“Whoa, lady, what’s your malfunction?” protested Henry. “Carl, man, get your mom.”

“She’s not my mom,” replied Carl. “Answer the question.”

“You, Shane, and your loud-mouth friend show up and now we’re being attacked. I don’t believe this is all a coincidence.” Carol  applied more pressure on the blade. “I will kill you. I have killed far more innocent people than you.”

“Carl, WTF, bro?!” protested Henry through shallow tears. “I don’t have anything to do with this. We were just trying to help my friend.”

The boy's tears seemed legit to Carol. She even felt bad for threatening him—slightly. “Stop crying,” Carol demanded. “You are too tall to be crying like that. Carl, keep Judith safe.”

“Where are you going?” asked Carl.

“Someone’s gotta deal with these people. They are slaughtering everyone. Any of those people get in here, you deal with them, Carl. You hear me, Carl? You deal with them.” Carol’s eyes cut to Henry, “And that includes your little friend too.”

Armed with a pistol, Carol snuck out of the home. Her thin frame covered a periwinkle button down and a floral print cardigan. Carol crouched down low as she slowly prowled the safe zone. The wolves mercilessly killed the Alexandrians, gaily delivering post-mortem wounds to their victims. The gore sickened Carol.

Carol continued to creep through Alexandria until she noticed her friend Erin being attacked. Though Erin was a new addition to Carol’s life, she was one of the few women in Alexandria that she felt could survive this new world. She was smart, patient, and ready to learn.

As Carol watched, a wolf cut Erin down, stabbing her in the abdomen while she stood on her porch, begging for her life. Her voice gargled on her blood as she wilted to the ground.

Carol’s heart raced, Erin’s attack appeared to be in slow motion. Carol tried to save her friend, but she wasn’t quick enough.  Carol drove her blade into the wolf’s back then his brain, killing him instantly.

Erin, however, didn’t have the luxury of a quick death. She cried out in horror and pain as the blood from her wound poured onto the steps.  Carol took Erin into her arms, covering her mouth so her cries wouldn’t be heard by other wolves.

The wound was mortal. Carol didn’t have to be a doctor to know that. Carol embraced Erin, holding her tightly as the woman cried her last breaths before Carol inserted her blade into Erin’s brain.

Though an act of mercy, it cut into Carol soul as well. Yet another life she had to take… Carol took a few moments to catch her breath. She was going to make the wolves pay, every last one of them.

***

Phillip barged through the infirmary door. “Shane!”

Shane was nowhere to be found. However, two bodies lay on the floor of the infirmary—the two wolves Shane had put down.

“Looks like Mr. Walsh is in the game.”

Phillip heard the click of a revolver on his left hand side, and from the shadows of the infirmary, Dr. Denise emerged.

“Danielle, was this your handy work?” Phillip asked. “ _Bad_ ass.”

“The name is _DOCTOR_ DENISE CLOYD.” Denise sharply kicked Phillip in the left shin.

 

 “Ouch,” replied Phillip, surprised that she could actually kick so hard.

“You’ll be fine, cry baby. Aaron and Dan, you’re bleeding.” Denise quickly moved to Aaron whose back hemorrhaged wildly. “We gotta do something about this bleeding. Dan how are you?”

“My head...I feel light headed.”

“Well, take a seat,” demanded Denise.

“It’s a rather superficial gash,” Phillip said. “I kept my eyes on it.”

“I don’t need your help, Phillip,” replied Denise. “What is going on out there?”

“Sweetheart, have you _not_ noticed we’re under attack?” Phillip asked condescendingly.

“I can still fight,” said Aaron.

“Not if you pass out,” countered Daryl. “Me and Phillip can take care of things out there.”

Phillip wasn’t nearly as confident as Daryl. “I’m cocky and everything, but there are like fifty assailants out there. I don’t think two men can handle them, especially if there are only two guns.”

“So what’s your plan, since you always gotta add something?” retorted Daryl. He was getting sick of Phillip’s judgmental  attitude.

“Denise, did they hit any major arteries?”Phillip asked as Denise inspected the wound on Aaron’s back.

“Doesn’t look like it. He may just need a really good stitch job,” Denise replied.

“Good. Crank out the staple gun,” said Phillip.

***

Carl and Henry were waiting nervously in the home when they heard a rattling at the door. Both young men looked at each other before nodding affirmatively. Carl pointed his assault riffle as Henry lifted his machete to strike.

When the front door finally opened,  Enid, entered. It took her a second to absorb the sight of Carl brandishing a gun and Henry waving a machete.

“Ugh, hi!” Her voice was sarcastic and monotone.

Both young men were relieved to see Enid. “You’re that girl,” said Henry.

“Yeah, _‘that girl’_ is me,” Enid replied. She passed the keys to Carl, who barely caught them with his left hand. “I figured you didn’t want _them_ getting these. And I also came back to tell you goodbye.”

Goodbye? She and Carl had just found each other. Within her, Carl found a kindred spirit. She too had experienced the horrors of the world beyond these walls. She was a little colder for it, a little meaner because of it—but so was Carl.

Carl dismissed her desire to leave. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to help us keep this place safe.”

Enid scanned the room with her dark eyes, “You two look like you have things covered here. Besides, it’s not safe here anymore.”

“It’s even less safe outside,” chimed in Henry.

“Excuse me, who are you?” replied Enid.

“Henry is my name, and like Carl said, you’re not going anywhere.”

Henry had Carl’s back, and Carl appreciated that. Even though Carl had let Carol rough him up, he didn’t hold any grudges. It told Carl all he needed to know about Henry as a person.

“Carl, I’m going to make sure the back door is secured,” Henry said. “You two got the front?”

“Absolutely,” replied Carl.

Carl could hear a familiar voice, a young male's scream. Carl ran to the living room window where he saw Ron retreating from a male wolf .

The teen darted outside to assist Ron, who desperately ran for his life. Carl, from the porch of his home, fired two rapid, silenced, bullets, one landing in the thigh of the wolf.

The wolf was knocked off his feet and whined as he nursed his wound. Carl carefully walked off the porch. Ron was shocked by Carl’s accuracy and also his apparent callousness. _He is a killer just like his father_ , thought Ron.

 “Please, man, don’t kill me,” begged the wolf as he held his thigh. “Please don’t.”

Carl hesitated, not because he was afraid to kill, but because he didn’t _want_ to kill. But the second of doubt was all the wolf needed to grab the barrel of the gun and attempt to wrestle it from Carl.

The struggle for the weapon  was intense, but ultimately ended when a bullet pierced the back of the wolf’s head, exiting his forehead. When the wolf fell to the ground, Carl finally saw who had fired the weapon.

Shane held the still smoking Glock, and Carl was star struck. He was frozen by the sight of Shane. He had no idea what to feel: elation or fear. Shane stepped forward, and Carl immediately aimed the gun at Shane’s chest. It was what his father would have done.

The move shocked Shane. _You too, Carl?_ thought Shane. “What, Carl, you gonna shoot me again?”

The words were like a punch to Carl's gut, and the wind was taken from his lungs. It really was Shane. He was alive and standing right before Carl.

While Carl was distracted, Shane disarmed him with one quick snatch. “Give me that fucking thing,” growled Shane. Shane quickly checked the ammunition. Carl had more than enough bullets. “Henry in there with you?”

Carl remained mute, still in shock from seeing Shane.

“ _CARL_!” barked Shane.

Shane's shout shook Carl out of his trance. “He’s watching the back,” Carl finally replied.

“Good.” Shane handed Carl back the gun. “Protect your sister, Carl. You kill anyone who tries to get in. Don’t hold back. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” replied Carl.

“Hey, kid, go inside there with Carl,” Shane ordered Ron.

“No, I’m not going anywhere with _him_ ,” replied Ron.

“Did I sound like I was _asking?_ You take your narrow tail in that house before I KICK your ass,” barked Shane.

The sound of Shane's voice was more than enough to bully Ron into compliance. Ron meekly retreated to the porch, joining Enid.

Slowly, Shane began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” asked Carl.

“I’ll be back. Keep everybody safe, Carl. Keep ‘em safe.”

***

With Phillip and Daryl's assistance, Denise managed to staple shut the wound on Aaron’s back. He was still in a great amount of pain, but Phillip and Daryl would need him to help defeat the wolves.

“You ready?” asked Phillip.

“I don’t have much of a choice.” Aaron held his pistol close, bracing himself. “You should probably take Denise’s gun, Phillip. You’re gonna need it.”

“Nah,” dismissed Phillip. “She needs it more than I do. _Dr. Cloyd_ , keep the patients safe.”

“I can—I mean I will,” replied Denise.

Daryl, Aaron, and Phillip braced themselves for the pending siege. Daryl grabbed the doorknob with his left hand and his crossbow with his right. “Alright, we all ready?”

“Bitch, I’m always ready,” replied Phillip.

“Okay, wise ass. Let’s do this, then,” said Daryl. “On three. One!”

“Two!” added Phillip.

“Three!” said Aaron.

“Now!”

Daryl opened the door, firing his bow followed by Aaron and Phillip. Denise rushed to close the door behind them. She moved a small loveseat against the door to barricaded the room like they had agreed and pointed her revolver at the door. Denise already had injured patients to take care of, and she would defend them with her life.

 

 


	9. Episode Two: Blood On The Walls / Part 3:"Some Unholy War"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought Season 6 was over...  
> The Wolves Attack Alexandria and Shane has to play clean up man again...

**The Walking Dead: -6**

Episode Two: _Blood On The Walls_

Part 3:"Some Unholy War "

Carol started out like many house wives from the antebellum south, simple and loving. She was a woman that neglected herself, denying herself even the smallest satisfactions. Much of this had to do with her husband Ed’s abuse, which suffocated much of the life out of Carol. But when Ed was killed, Carol believed that it was perhaps a sign from God. Finally her abuser was cut down, and she was freed of his abuse.

But she wasn’t free. Not by any means.

When Sophia died so did Carol. That part of her heart that was warm and loving all but dissipated. Sophia had been the lone flame in the ocean of shadows that was Carol’s heart. Carol managed to fill that hole with something almost as strong as love—she filled it with her desire to live.

 _Three,_ thought Carol as she drove her knife into the brain of a male Wolf who attempted to attack an elderly Alexandrian. Carol managed to blend in seamlessly with the Wolves. She had borrowed the attire of a Wolf she slue. She even used blood to draw a “ **W** ” on her forehead and covered her face with a white bandanna. Carol was on the hunt for Wolves, and she planned to kill every last one.

A female Wolf with filthy blonde hair repeatedly stabbed the already expired corpse of Janet, a young Alexandrian only two years into womanhood. As the Wolf mounted and stabbed the girl in her face, Carol crept behind her.

“Monster,” Carol hissed before firing her handgun into the head of the Wolf, killing her.

 _Four_ , thought Carol. Carol’s eyes darted as she hastened her movements and headed for the armory.

***

The four teens stood anxiously in the living room. From a corner, Ron fired arrows through his eyes at Carl. Carl did his best to ignore him. Carl was good at firing guns but was awful at interpersonal strife between peers. Henry was lurched over, staring through the dining room window. He could see the Wolves terrorizing Alexandria, but he could also see a mounting resistance.

“Aaron!” hooted Henry. “You guys, look!”

Carl, still holding his assault rifle, joined Henry at the window followed by Enid. Ron decided to stay isolated in the corner. The teens watched as Aaron and Daryl made quick work of the Wolves.

Then, finally, the blaring sound of the horn ended. Between all the commotion within the community, the teens had all but ignored the horn.

“Good, they’re handling things out there. We just have to sit tight. My dad should be back soon.”

“ _You’re_ father is a killer,” Ron said from his corner, his words coated with animosity.

Ron's tone shocked Henry. “Who are you kidding? We’re all killers here.”

“ _I’m_ not!” replied Ron. “What do you know? You’re not even a part of our community.”

“From the looks of it, there won’t be much of a community soon,” added Enid.

“Don’t say that,” said Carl. “We’ll be fine. Daryl’s out there. Shane too. My dad _is_ on his way. My dad may be a _killer,_ but Ron, your dad is the _murderer_.”

“ _What_ did you say?!” Ron replied, challengingly. “Say it again!”

Henry quickly positioned himself between the teens. Carl’s body language was harden as he held his rifle tightly.

“Just like your dad. You need a gun to solve your problems,” dismissed Ron, who was face to face with Carl only blocked by the towering Henry.

“I get it! You don’t like each other, but we got bigger issues right now!” Enid said. She was frustrated with the hyper-macho bullshit from these two boys.

The arguing teens had no idea that their loud voices had caught the attention of three stray Wolves looking for victims. Two male and one female Wolf approached the home, armed with lead pipes.

One of the male Wolves was a healthy 220 pounds and over six foot three in stature with dark skin and a shaved head. The second male was slimmer, paler, and had dark hair. The she-wolf was petite, blonde. She had been a doll in her day, but now she was just a predator.

***

Phillip didn’t need guns and neither did Daryl. From time to time, Dixon would watch Phillip neutralize the Wolves from out of the corner of his eye. Phillip easily telegraphed attacks, using his advance hand-to-hand combat experience to dispel the threat.

To Daryl, Phillip appeared to easily defeat his opponents, but secretly Phillip was winded. Between the blood he had given to Shane, and the alcohol he recently consumed, his body was weakened.

The three men quickly killed six Wolves, but Phillip wasn’t satisfied. He had yet to come across his friends Henry or Shane or even their bodies. Phillip figured the best chances of survival would be to collect his group and get out of dodge. That was when it hit me.

“We need to split up,” declared Phillip to Daryl and Aaron.

“Split up? Are you crazy? We’re safer together,” countered Aaron.

 _We or you are safer? I could do this solo_ , thought Phillip. “Look, I’m going _that_ way. Tag out!” Phillip quickly turned a corner and raced towards the armory.

Aaron's natural reaction was to chase behind Phillip, but Daryl used his arm to stop Aaron in his tracks. “He made his choice. We gotta help _our_ people.”

***

Phillip was lucky enough to make it to the armory but so did a Wolf, and he was _big_. Standing six foot seven and all of 300 plus pounds, the Wolf stood gleefully in front of Phillip. The olive tone of the Wolf’s skin was covered by grim and his teeth were covered with a mossy green film. In his hand was a large sledge hammer, still covered with the innards of an Alexandrian.

Phillip’s face turned at the smell of the Wolf. “Ever heard of _Irish Spring_?” quipped Phillip.

Cockily Phillip smirked before tossing one of his bowie knives at the Wolf, which clearly telegraphed the attack. Using the handle of the sledgehammer, the Wolf negated the attack.

“Okay...” Phillip confessed. “You’ve got a few moves.”

Phillip charged the Wolf, led by his blade. The two clashed. The Wolf physically overpowered the smaller man, using the handle of the hammer to meet the force of Phillip’s blade. Desperate, to survive, Phillip wrestled to the gravelly earth.

Any other day, Phillip would have made quick work of this Wolf. Being exposed to numerous Pharma-therapeutic enhancements from ATLAS made Phillip not only physically stronger but also more agile than most men. Usually this edge made Marco almost indestructible.

Phillip banked on these abilities. However he didn’t take into consideration all the blood he had given Shane, or the lack of food in his system. Phillip had been driving on fumes, and his body was about to give out. Phillip made a grave error that could cost him his life.

***

Shane lost count of how many bullets he had left, but he figured that if he could make it back to the infirmary, he could retrieve more ammo from the PYTHON.

In the immediate distance, Shane could see a slender female frame with a short blonde pixie haircut. There was an automatic rifle in her hand, but it was out of bullets. A male Wolf charged her with his blade. Before she could strike him with the butt of her gun, Shane fired two bullets into the Wolf.

The beautiful blonde girl turned her head to see Walsh still aiming his gun, the barrel still smoking. In the girl's eyes, Shane could see how relieved she was. But in Shane’s eyes, he only saw one thing: Nancy.

The resemblance was striking, so much so that it snatched the words from Shane’s throat. The girl's real name was Holly, but you could not have told Walsh that. Holly mirrored every bit of Nancy’s edge hidden inside a beautiful, blonde ingénue.

Rosita, armed with her pistol, met up with Holly. “Are you okay? I thought I was going to be too late.”

“And you would have been,” replied Holly. “That man... _he_ saved me.”

Rosita was every bit as beautiful and tough as Holly, but Rosita’s hardness was more externalized. Behind the darkness in her eyes, hid mystery and pain, but like many of the survivors, she ignored her inner hurt.

Rosita cut her cocoa eyes at Shane. “Who are you? How the hell do we know that you aren’t with them?”

Rosita’s intenseness broke Shane’s trance. “Well, Missy, I guess you don’t know. Other than I just helped your friend. What is your name? I’m Sheriff Shane Walsh.”

Shane’s name was familiar. Rick had told his group about Shane. He was vague about the details, but Rosita knew that Shane and Rick were enemies. She wasn’t exactly sold on that. Shane had nothing to do with the Wolves’ attack.

“Rick told me about you,” replied Rosita, her tone was suspicious.

“I’m sure nothing nice,” replied Shane. “I’m looking for Henry. He’s about yay-tall, friendly, dark hair, a tad on the pale side. Have you seen him?”

“Nope,” Rosita’s voice was hallow and monotone.

She didn’t trust Shane already. She was told that Shane was two-steps from the casket, and now he was running around like Rambo. Something was up.

“Well, Miss Holly and Senorita Rosita, catch you beautiful ladies later,” replied Shane with a flirtatious wink to which Rosita rolled her eyes. Shane caught that, so he even blew Rosita a slightly condescending kiss.

The officer jogged off, his chest still hurt from the ballistic wound but adrenaline kept Shane on his feet. As Shane headed towards the infirmary, he noticed a large man straddling a smaller figure.

Shane recognized Phillip’s almost pristine dark boots. His heart raced at the sight of his friend being strangled to death. Shane ran over to the man and placed his barrel to the back of the Wolf's head.

Click.

Click.

Click.

“Shit!” hissed Shane, realizing he was out of bullets.

Shane hovered over the Wolf, who was too focused on choking the life from Phillip with the handle of his sledge. Phillip's face was turning blue, and the light in his eyes began to fade to white.

Shane panicked and viciously slammed the butt of the gun against the Wolf’s head, freeing Phillip from his attack. As the Wolf reacted to Shane’s attack, Phillip used his feet to repel the Wolf. Shane helped Phillip to his feet. Phillip hacked and coughed as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Thanks...he was trying to kill me,” Phillip said.

“Yeah, I think that was the plan,” Shane said, patting the coughing Phillip on his back, trying to help him clear himself. “I’m out of bullets.”

“We won’t need them for him,” Phillip replied, still wheezing.

“You don’t belong here!” replied the Wolf, blood gushing from his scalp from Shane’s attack. “You don’t belong _anywhere_.”

“Save the head-trip, Edward Nigma,” replied Phillip, making reference to the _Batman_ character the Riddler. A reference only he and Shane would get.

Phillip picked up his two bowie knives from the ground, and after a quick brainstorm, Phillip decided to pass one to Shane. The two men nodded at each other affirmatively.

First to charge was Phillip. His attack was again negated by the Wolf’s sledgehammer handle. But that gave Shane the opening he needed. Using Phillip’s blade, Shane drove the knife into the gut of the Wolf. When Phillip sensed the Wolf growing weak, he used his blade to pierce the Wolf in the brain. It was done.

After the Wolf fell to the ground, Phillip released a sigh of relief. “Looks like he was giving my favorite ninja trouble,” teased Shane.

“Thanks for playing offense. I needed it,” replied Phillip. The two men delivered a seamless high-five forearm bump combination in celebration. “Have you seen Henry?”

“Nope. I was gonna head over to Carl’s to see if he was still there. I’m Out of bullets , and we don’t know how many of these guys are left.”

“Fine. Lets re-up on firearms. I stored some goodies for us in the PYTHON. Shane, I need to you to get Henry while I get our stuff from the armory. I’m going to need the vehicle, so you’re going to have to go on foot. And then we’re taillights. We leave as soon as we get Henry.”

***

Ron and Carl’s argument intensified. Ron of course got the loudest. He had so much to prove and had no idea why. Deep within his heart, he felt inferior to Carl. He _knew_ Carl was more valiant, more tested, more mature.

But their noise summoned unwelcomed visitors. The Wolves attacked, entering through the kitchen window while the teens argued. The first to go down was Henry. The larger Wolf pounced, knocking the teen to the ground. Carl attempted to aim his gun but was rushed by Ron.

“What in the hell are you doing?” screamed Enid, but she too was knocked off her feet by the female Wolf.

The third Wolf hovered over Henry, who was now pinned on the ground by the first Wolf. The third Wolf took his large hunting knife and held it ominously above Henry’s head. And with his full force, the Wolf dove the blade towards Henry's face.

POP!

POP-POP-POP!

Henry shut his eyes in anticipation of his death, but slowly he opened them to see the Wolves had been neutralized. His blue eyes scanned the room and noticed that both Carl and Ron were on the ground, but both young men were alert and oriented. Their eyes were glued to the figure behind Henry.

Henry turned his head to see Enid holding a handgun, still smoking. Tears streamed down her hazel eyes in horror. Overwhelmed, the teenage girl ran out of the home.

Carl rose to his feet and attempted to chase after her. Ron watched bitterly, still on the ground. _She’s supposed to be mine_ , thought Ron.

The blood of the slain Wolves began to pool in the middle of the floor. Ron’s hand became submerged in the blood, the warm, sticky fluid coated the paleness of his skin.

“Fine then. Just go,” said Ron, hypnotized by the blood.

***

Phillip had made it to the armory. With one mighty kick, the door flew open. As he entered, he could hear the click of a pistol. Phillip had no patience for any more shenanigans that Alexandria had to offer.

“Look, I’m here for my guns. They are locked up in here. Please do not make me turn a simple business transaction into a homicide.”

The sliding door that hid the weapons in the armory slowly opened. From the shadows, Olivia appeared, pistol drawn.

Her face rounded  and frowned as she approached Phillip. “Get out of here.”

“I plan on doing just that as soon as I get that bag,” Phillip said, gesturing to the duffel bag with the large iron chain wrapped around it. “Aaron and Rick made us turn it in when we arrived. They left out the part about you guys being in some type of sectarian war with another group.”

“We’ve never seen these people before. They just showed up and started massacring people.”

“Yeah, I don’t care. Thanks for you hospitality, but we will be leaving,” dismissed Phillip.

Phillip glided past Olivia, ignoring the fact that she was holding a firearm. In his mind, he was done with the conversation.

Olivia kept her eyes on Phillip but decided not to fire. Even though he may not be with the Wolves, she did find it a little suspicious that his group arrived within days of the Wolves.

Phillip attempted to lift the large duffel bag but realized that it was much too heavy. “Can we use that same cart that we used to check the guns in?”

 

 

The rest of the firearms were left in the black duffel bag and placed in the PYTHON. “Now I just got to get our clothes, the pipsqueak, the dog, and Shane. Why am I always doing everything?”

He waited for the baritone of Austin’s voice to concur with his complaints, but that would not happen. Phillip realized that he was alone and Austin was dead. The ugly reality shook him into reality, and Phillip marched on to the infirmary.

He was  shocked when he realized the once vacant makeshift hospital was now filled with over twenty patient, all varying in conditions. Phillip noticed that his groups' gear had been moved. In the background, Phillip could hear the groans of the victims and a frantic Denise struggling to care for them.

“Phillip! There you are,” said Denise, relieved to see the soldier.

But Phillip's eyes were puzzled. “We’re leaving. Where’s my stuff?”

Phillip was very abrupt, and he all but ignored the suffering of the people behind him. Denise knew that Phillip knew good and well what she was going to ask next, and she had no time for his bullshit.

“I need your help,” Denise said. “There are people who need _our_ help.”

“When did this become _our_ problem?” Phillip deflected. “I’ve done my part.”

“Done your part? What in the hell does that mean?” countered Denise.

“It means: I’m leaving. Where are my bags?”

Denise was disgusted by Phillip’s coldness. She didn’t wish to be in his presence a second longer. “It’s all in the bathroom.”

As Phillip headed towards the restroom, Denise, the clever psychiatrist added, “Rick said that Shane was an empty shell of a human being. He only cared about _who_ he cared about, to hell with everything else. And if you could befriend a person like that, you must be one in the same.”

Phillip stopped and pivoted to face Denise. The soldier slowly approached her and let out a condescending chuckle. “Rick and Shane have been Dutch-Oven Buddies since age eight. With your logic, wouldn’t Rick be just as empty as Shane? I bet that keeps you up at night, Rick. Just knowing at any given time he could unravel.”

“We’re unraveling now, Phillip. Are you going to help us or not?”

“God damn it!” cursed Phillip before sucking in a conceding breath. “Well at least get me some gloves.”


	10. Episode Two: Blood On The Walls / Part 4:"Reconnected"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought Season 6 was over....
> 
> Shane finally locates Carl and Carl has questions upon questions.... The only thing Shane wants to talk about is Judith...
> 
> For the FULL Motion Fan-Fiction Experience, follow us on WATTPAD as well..
> 
> HAPPY 4/20

 

 **The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode Two: The Blood on The Walls  
Part 4: "Reconnected"

 

Shane had circled back to the brownstone where the Grimes Family hung their hat. He raced up the stairs and rushed through the door.

"Carl! Henry!" Shane was greeted by the corpse of one of the slain Wolves. "Jeez-Louise!"

"Shane, over here!" Henry called out. Shane's eyes focused on Henry, Carl, and Ron who hid somewhat in the corner of the living room. "Is it over?"

"Yeah, I think we got them all," Shane said. "Are you alright here? Where's that girl?"

Ron's posture changed with discomfort at the mention of Enid.

"She's gone," answered Carl.

"What do you mean by ' _gone_ ' ?" drilled Shane. "Is she... Did they kill her?"

"I hope not," replied Carl.

His blue eyes were glued to the ground. He was too ashamed to look Shane in his eyes. Carl still carried a heavy guilt in his chest from shooting Shane. Shane could sense some of Carl's anxiety.

In the immediate distance, a female voice could be heard calling out a name, but the words were somewhat muted by the brick walls of the brownstone.

Another guest also barged into the home, screaming "Ron!"

Shane got a closer look of the female. She was blonde, but her hair was caked with dried blood. Her frame was womanly robust. Her blue eyes were misty but were relieved when she saw Ron's face.

"Oh, honey!" Jessie ran past Shane and immediately embraced her son.

As the mother and son embraced each other, Shane nudged Carl and whispered, "Who's that?"

In the right corner of his mouth, Carl whispered back, "That's his mom, Jessie."

Jessie turned around to face Carl and Shane. She didn't recognize Shane, but did appreciate his rugged good looks. Her peaches and cream skin was coated with the blood of Wolves she had killed during the battle, but Shane could still see her blush. Shane reacted with a quick, flirtatious smile. Jessie banished those quick thoughts and extended her hand to Shane.

"Thanks for helping keep these boys safe," Jessie said to Shane.

Shane shook her hand. "I don't get the credit here. These kids here handled themselves."

"Don't thank, _him_ Mom," Ron said. The nasally shriek of his voice irked Shane. "He's just a killer, just like _Carl and Rick_!"

Ron stormed past his mother, bumping angrily into both his mother and Shane.

Shane cut his eyes at his Ron and scoffed. "A rude lil' shit, isn't he?"

Jessie gasped, and her eyes burned with ire. "That is _my son_ you're talking about!"

Shane scoffed again then broke eye contact in his classic, condescending manner. "Yeah, you should probably go do something about that."

" _Asshole!"_ Jessie stormed out of the brownstone, in hot pursuit of her son.

Shane, Henry, and Carl waited for the door to close before the boys broke into belly-aching laughter. Carl's eyes tighten with amusement as Shane mocked Jessie's voice in the background. The young teen doubled over with laughter. But when Carl opened his eyes after enjoying such a great laugh, he was greeted by the dead face of a Wolf.

The laughter ended.

Carl was hastened back into reality: people were dying. People had _already_ died. Carl had questions, and he wanted answers. "What happened to you, Shane?"

Shane rested his body against the adjacent wall as he prepared himself for what was sure to be quite the monologue. Carl rose from the floor, wanting to stare Shane in his eyes; he wanted to show that he wasn't a weak boy anymore. He had never been weak to begin with.

"Henry, Phil's looking for you. He needs you to help him pack up," Shane said.

"Pack up?" echoed Henry.

"We're leaving, so get to the infirmary. You don't want to hear his mouth, Jesus Christ."

Shane quickly relived a recent Phillip-related meltdown. Shane also wanted to talk to Carl alone. This was a conversation that was just for them.

"Alright, man." Henry quickly turned to Carl and gave him a friendly hand slap. "Its been...really scary. But we're still alive. Stay that way."

Henry quickly darted out of the house, heading towards the infirmary.

Carl watched as Shane watched Henry. "Who are those people?"

Shane turned back to Carl, "Just...people. People I met on the road, after everything."

"So they're just people you survived with."

Shane shook his head. "No, Carl, they were all the family that I thought I had left until just now."

Shane took a good look at Carl. He had grown at least a foot since Shane last saw him. The boy was still narrow as a string bean, but so was his father at that age. Carl's face was still fair and spotted lightly with boyish freckles. But Carl's voice had deepened, his posture had changed, and he was becoming a man.

"Carl, how are you? How's... How's your sister? Does she look like you?"

The chain of questions hit Carl like a city bus. He was starstruck at the fact Shane was alive. "How? I shot you. How are you alive?"

Shane was more interested in his questions, especially the ones about Judith. With his left finger, Shane trace the somewhat faint scar on his right temple. "You did this." Shane then lifted his black, woven thermal top and pointed to an also faint scar that was inches from his "Lil' Bird" tattoo. "Your father did this."

Shane thought about also pointing to his heart and saying _Lori did this_ but felt that level of pettiness was best saved for Rick.

"So you were okay? I thought you turned," said Carl.

"Oh, good," said Shane. "All this time I thought you wanted to kill me, like Rick."

"No, why would I...?" Carl couldn't even fathom such a thing. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry Shane."

"I'm just glad..." Shane's eyes now looked at his feet. "Glad you got such shitty aim."

Carl chuckled. "Hey, I'm a good shot, now!"

But his laughter was brief. Carl then remembered. He remembered everything that had happened since he last talked to Shane. Lori running for her life for nine months, the prison, Lori dying, the Governor, the Hunters. In one moment Carl relived all the horrifying moments.

"You don't know."

Shane refocused his eyes on Carl. "Don't know what?"

"Anything. So much has happened to me—to _us_. We've lost so much, so many people. _I've_ lost so much."

"That's the thing, Carl. I _wanna_ know everything about you. I wanna hear everything. I haven't been here for you. I wasn't here to help you through what happened with Lori. And, Carl, I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for not being around. But I'm here now. I'm _right_ here."

Behind Shane, he could hear small foot steps. He quickly turned around to see Carol standing behind him. She was dressed like the Wolves, her clothes tattered and mucky, a smeared **"W** " made of blood could still be seen on her forehead.

Carol's right hand lightly held her revolver, but her grip soften when Shane said, "Carol, is that you? Jesus Christ."

Shane opened his arms and Carol warmly embraced Shane in a hug. Carol could smell the salty sweetness of Shane's neck. Images of Shane raced through her mind, especially of the time Shane tried to console her after Sophia's death.

Shane had stood up to Carol's abusive husband, beating Ed to a bloody mess. Carol had always felt a connection to Shane, and when she thought he died, she silently morned for him for months. Carol understood Shane's darkness.

*******

Phillip demanded another shower after getting very dirty in the infirmary. Denise was relieved that all her patients were stabilized with no fatalities. All Alexandrians who were brought to the infirmary survived thanks to Denise and Phillips.

Denise was slouched in her chair, taking a load off as Phillip headed for the exit after getting cleaned up.

"Are you leaving, now?" asked Denise.

"Hells yeah," replied Phillip. "I appreciate all that you've done for me and my people."

"No, no, _thank you._ I couldn't have attempted to do half of this without you," confessed Denise. "You know you don't _have_ to leave?"

"I _want_ to leave," affirmed Phillip. "This place...this place isn't safe. There are too many threats, inside and outside of these walls."

"Are you referring to Rick?"

"And his minions," added Phillip. "And not to mention these feral people attacking this place. We stay here, we're sure to die. And I don't plan on losing anymore of my people. I'm glad I was able to help you save some of yours."

" _Phil!_ " Henry said as he entered the infirmary. "Shane said we were leaving: are we?"

Phillip nodded, "Where's Shane?"

"At Carl's house. They're talking. I think they're saying goodbye."

"Then we should be doing the same. Denise, I could thank you for all your help. Or i could leave saying something poignant and deep. But if you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of a jerk, so... Good Luck," Phillip said before exiting the infirmary.

When the two made it to the streets of Alexandria, the afternoon sun was covered behind a thick haze. Phillip suspected rain was on the way.

"SHOTGUN!" called out Henry.

"Where?" Phillip asked, quickly retrieving his magnums that sat at his waist.

"I mean, I'm _riding_ shotgun," Henry replied somewhat meekly. "I guess in light of recent events we shouldn't play that game."

"Ya think?" replied Phillip, his voice peppered with attitude.

Phillip scanned the streets of Alexandria. His eyes watered from the still smoking walls and burning flesh from the attack of the Wolves. Luckily, the casualties were low, only ten of Alexandria's fifty-nine people perished. Had Phillip and Shane not been there, the count would have been higher.

The people of Alexandria were trying to slowly recovery from the assault, and the community leaders were there to support them. Aaron helped an elderly female Alexandria to her home, her body was riddled with arthritis and terror.

Phillip wanted to say goodbye to Aaron. He was the true hero.

"There are a shit load of old people here," Phillip called out to Aaron as he closed Mrs. Metzger's door.

Aaron turned to Phillip. He gave a faint scowl before turning away and walking in the opposite direction.

"Let me guess: you're mad at me," declared Phillip.

"You just left us back there," Aaron said, turning to face Phillip.

Phillip could see the intensity in Aaron's deep blue eyes. The blood of the Wolves still covered his clothes from the battle earlier. "After everything, you just abandoned us when we needed you."

"You seem like you survived. No harm, no foul."

Aaron was astonished at how blasé Phillip was about his behavior. Aaron couldn't figure out the Rubik's cube that was Phillip's mind. He had to get closer. Aaron figured if he got closer and looked deeper into Phillip he could make sense of this.

The friendliness of Aaron's voice was abandoned for a dark, hostile growl, "We could have died back there."

"You and What's-his-name were doing just fine—"

Infuriated, Aaron snapped. He approached Phillip, now erasing any space between the two. Aaron's height towered many inches over Phillip, and his eyes stared down on the soldier.

" _His name_ is Daryl."

Phillip immediately caught the warmth of Aaron's mouth with his. Aaron gave in for only a moment before pulling away. "No."

The kiss knocked all the ire out of Aaron, and now he was confused as to why he was mad at Phillip in the first place. Aaron quickly panicked and started to look around desperately, hoping Eric hadn't seen them kiss.

"No one saw," said Phillip. "I think people have more important things going anyway. I didn't stop you so I could argue with you. This is me saying good bye."

Aaron took two steps backwards. "What? Why?"

"This quote-unquote _safe-zone_ isn't looking very safe these days. Plus Shane is doing remarkably well. There is no point in waiting for Rick to get back. I don't see anything positive coming from those two hooking back up." Phillip relaxed his body against the large oak tree where he and Aaron stood. "I appreciate you, Aaron. You could have left Shane out on that Virginia highway."

"No, I couldn't have done that. But you don't have to go. We could make this work." Aaron quickly rephrased his words. "You can make this place work. Rick isn't the boss here, one of the community leaders, yes. But Deanna makes the rules. Even though you hightailed it when things got tough, you did help protect the people of this community. Deanna will respect you for it. She would want you to stay. _I_ want you to stay."

" _I_ can't," replied Phillip. "I could give you so many reasons why."

"How many of them have to do with Shane and Rick?" countered Aaron.

Phillip briefly brainstormed. "Actually most of them are about Rick and Shane."

"Do you even have a place to go?" asked Aaron. "I mean, it's so dangerous out there and not just the dead."

"I do have a place to go," said Phillip. "Getting there is the tricky part. I'm packed. I'll be leaving shortly."

Aaron quickly remembered Rick's plan of marching over a thousand walkers east of Alexandria. "Phillip, stay west. There are thousands of walkers east of us. Something is drawing them there. We always stay west when we scavenge for that reason."

"'Stay west.' Good to know."

Before Phillip could turn away from Aaron again, Aaron used his hands to pull Phillip in for another kiss. This time he allowed it to linger, savoring it because he was sure it would not happen again.

  
"Stay west. Stay alive," said Aaron.

 *******


	11. Episode Three: The Resergence / Part 4:"You're Welcome"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane finally meets Judith and Carl is finally learning the true behind Judith birth...

**The Walking Dead: -6**

Episode Two: _Blood On The Walls_

Part 1:"You’re Welcome"

 

 

“NICHOLAS!!!”

 

\--Back at Alexandria--

Shane held Carol close. She could hear the steady thud of Shane’s heart. _He is definitely alive_ , Carol thought to herself. Shane pulled away to get a better look at Carol.

Shane pulled away to get a better look at Carol. “Holy shit, Carol, you’re bleeding,” he exclaimed.

“No. I’m fine,” dismissed Carol. “It’s not my blood. It was one of _theirs._ ”

“What’s up with the clothes?” asked Carl.

“I went in undercover. It was easier to kill them if they weren’t trying to kill me,” concluded Carol. She used the sleeve of the stolen jacket to feebly wipe the blood off her forehead, but it left a stain.

“How long ya’ll been here?” asked Shane.

Carol contemplated how much she wanted to reveal. Yes, Shane _was_ alive, but Shane had also tried to kill Rick. Though over two years had passed, Carol’s loyalty to Rick challenged her closeness to Shane.

Shane could see the internal battle in her eyes. He didn’t want to pressure Carol. He took a few steps back, giving her needed space.

“About two weeks?” answered Carl.

Carol was relieved it was Carl who spilled the beans.

“All the way from Georgia? How long did it take you to drive?” asked Shane. “Did you guys leave right after the farm? I tried to go back to the farm, but nobody was there—no one living, at least.”

“You went back to the farm?” echoed Carol.

“Yeah, me _and_ Phillip actually. Problem is it was overrun. After we cleared the place, none of the bodies matched up with any of the former occupants. I figured you all either ran away or _something else_.”

“That we _died_ ,” added Carl.

“Or something worse,” said Shane.

“That place was overrun by over sixty Walkers, and you and your friend just what? Killed all of them?”

Carol was suspicious of Shane’s story. From what she could remember from that horrible night, the Walkers had swarmed the farm, killing anyone unfortunate enough to be left behind. No way two men could have cleared that farm.

“Phillip is really good at killing those things, hell, killing _things_ in general, I suppose. He has a _sick_ headshot ratio. He is former military. He’s also the reason I’m alive. That night, when all that shit went down between me and Rick, I managed to get a few miles away from the farm. I was busted up pretty bad and was bleeding out, fucked around  and got surrounded by the dead-heads. I didn’t have a lot of bullets, but I didn’t need that many. Phil heard my shots and, well, the rest is history. Austin and Phil patched me up, and I’ve been with them since.”

“And the boy?” Carol asked. “Henry?”

“It used to be him, his dad Stu , little brother, Jacob and… And there was Nancy, his sister.”

“And what happened to them?”

Carol wanted to know what kind of group Shane was a part of. Were they a group like the Claimers, who used brute force to keep the members in line? Or were they a group like the Hunters, who devoured human flesh just like the walkers? Who was _this_ Shane?

Shane silently searched for a response that would be both abbreviated and devastating. “The same thing that happened to Lori.”

In the distance, a faint cry echoed through the brownstone. Shane’s heart sank into his stomach. It was _her_. It was _his_ daughter.

Carol inspected Shane’s eyes. The florescent lights in the home brought out the hazel in his irises.

“Carl, go check on your sister.”

***

Maggie’s arms were folded tightly across her chest as she anxiously waited at the gates of Alexandria. Glenn had yet to arrive, and it was eating her up. After the Wolves, Maggie was already on high alert.

Carter was the first to arrive. He told the group that Rick had ordered him to return to Alexandria. Carter also revealed that the Walkers in the quarry were released, and Rick’s plan was kicked into action without a rehearsal.

Carter had even more bad news; due to the blaring horn during the attack from the Wolves, half of the 1200 Walkers deposited in the quarry were headed towards the walls of Alexandria. Rick had a Plan B: while Carter was checking on things in Alexandria, _he_ planned to lure the remaining Walkers away from Alexandria with a RV.

A ray of hope shimmered for a moment when Michonne appeared in the distance. Maggie used her hands to block the sun as she focused her eyes on Michonne and her company. Glenn wasn’t among those with Michonne, Heath and Scott.

“Glenn?” Maggie desperately asked Michonne as she along with Heath helped a limping Scott.

“We got separated. David and Annie didn’t make it. Glenn and Nicholas said they were going to light a fire to draw the Walkers away.” Michonne then got silent, disconnecting her gaze from Maggie’s.

“What happened, please? What happened to Glenn?” Maggie cried.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know. It has been hours since we were separated. Has Rick returned? We can go out and find him. I just have to get Scott to the infirmary, and then we can go find Glenn.”

Maggie nodded affirmatively. “I need to get some things. I’ll meet you at the infirmary in thirty minutes.”

***

Phillip and Henry both sat inside of the PYTHON all packed and prepared to leave the Alexandria Safe-Zone. Henry managed to even collect Buster from Carl’s backyard. The trio was primed to leave, only problem was Shane was still talking with Carl and Carol. Henry knew Shane had a closeness to these people. That was evident in his eyes. When Shane spoke to Carl, his eyes lit up with a glee he had never seen before.

Henry was more confused as to why they were leaving and where in the hell they were going. “Why can’t we stay here?”

“Is that a _serious_ question?” Phillip replied, his eyes glued to the thirty minute timer he had set for Shane using his tablet.

“Yes, it is!” Henry replied with a drop of attitude, which immediately earned a nasty look from Phillip. The boy recoiled. “I mean, yeah, this place is dangerous, but so is everywhere else.”

“This place isn’t just right next to one of America’s most populated cities, Washington, DC, but also this little _‘safe zone’_ looks like it’s on the top of somebody’s _shit list_.” Phillip quickly took a sip from his water bottle. “I can handle the dead, and I can _kill_ the living. But I’ll be damned if I have to deal with both at the same time. Not to mention Rick Grimes.”

“Do you even have a destination?” countered Henry.

“Yup, we’re going to your home state, Sunny CA.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “What’s in California?”

Phillip took another sip of water and then looked again at the timer. Only eleven minutes and three seconds remained. With one word Phillip answered, “ATLAS.”

***  


Carol watched Carl as he began to change Judith’s soiled diaper. A smile emerged on her face as memories of her daughter Sophia entered her mind. The sweetness of children at that age gave Carol hope. _The possibilities_ she thought to herself. Life wasn’t over. Judith was proof of that.

“Are you watching her?” Shane asked, his body leaning against the wall in the kitchen, partially hidden by shadows.

“Carl’s changing her,” Carol said. “He does a good job taking care of her.”

“Carol, I wanna see her,” Shane declared, his voice was assertive but non-threatening. 

Shane understood Carol’s history with domestic violence. He was careful with his body language as well. He could tell that Carol had changed drastically in the last two years.

“I can’t let you do that,” Carol said.

Shane let out a shallow scoff and delivered a dismissive head shake, completely negating Carol’s statement. “Because of Rick?”

“Because of Lori,” replied Carol. “What do you think she would want?”

“She would want Judith to _see_ her father at least once!” Shane’s voice was elevated. He could no longer contain his emotions.

Carol’s body tensed, and she gripped her revolver.

Shane quickly extended both of his hands forward passively, showing he meant no harm. “Carol, you know…”

Shane had to catch himself. He felt the wetness of tears moisten his eyes.   Shane loved the explosiveness and passion associated with rage. But feeling pain that he couldn't see or stitch or medicate away was too much for him. 

“Carol, you _knew_ what we were,” Shane said, speaking of Lori. His eyes quickly darted around. He lowered his voice and said, “You knew I wasn’t just _sleeping_ with Lori. I loved her, and I love Carl. You know I would do—I _did_ do everything for them. We’re not promised tomorrow, hell, we never were even before the Walkers came. Now you know what’s the right thing to do; after tonight, I’m never going to see her again anyhow.”

Carol searched deeper into Shane’s eyes. “Why do you say that?”

Shane scoffed. “Like Rick is gonna let me stay here. Like I would _want_ to stay here.”

Carol shrugged. “It does have running water.”

Shane let out a small chuckle. “I guess that is quite the amenity nowadays, isn’t it?”From his right, Shane heard Carl’s voice. “Judith, say hi to Uncle Shane.”

***

The alarm had rung ten minutes ago, and Shane was still inside with Carl and Carol. “What the fuck is he doing in there?” complained Phillip. “Saying the Gettysburg Address?”

Henry’s cerulean eyes narrowed with shock. “He’s saying goodbye. We shouldn’t rush him.”

“We can’t wait much longer, Henry. Can’t get to ATLAS if we get murdered in this shithole.”

“Explain it to me again. I don’t understand. Where are we going?”

Phillip rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. Then he remembered that Henry was only fourteen, and his expectation should be lowered. “We’re going to Blythe, California. Ever been there?”

“Never.Is it in near LA?”

“Los Angeles is roughly 325 miles away from Blythe. Blythe is located somewhere between Phoenix and San Diego; a shithole stretch of desert with a  measly population of 25,000. Ten percent of the population are meth addicts, if memory serves me right. But beyond the desert sits an eighty-acre, state-of–the-art training facility. In additional to, of course, a living quarters for over 5,000 people. The facility was called APOLLO, and it was the home for all the soldiers of ATLAS. We were called ATLAS for many reasons. One was because it was a cute acronym of the founders: Marshall **A** dams, Jackson **T** rimble, Cecil **L** awernce , Eric **A** lexander and William B. **S** hackles. But also, much like the Atlas of Greek mythology, we kept the world on our shoulders.”

“What does that mean?”

Phillip was not as transparent about his past with Henry as he was with Shane for a variety of reasons. Henry didn’t know all the seedy moves Phillip had made while being an operative for ATLAS.

“It means: we kept America and American interests safe.”

Phillip decided to vague up the details. One day he would tell Henry the whole truth, but it wouldn't be today. Phillip wanted to refocus the conversation back to the ATLAS base.

“The _APOLLO_ facility is an organic farm  that produces dairy and meat . We only ate the best.”

“So was that place just like a military base?”

“In many ways, yes, and in many ways no. There were no more than maybe 1,000 active members of ATLAS. I always wondered why so much room for so few people. I figured that APOLLO would double as a safe-haven for international VIPs in case of a possible military conflict.”

“Or an apocalypse,” added Henry.

“Precisely. Never figured it would look like this, though. The place has high gates as well as chain link fences with gun towers. There is a fully functional airstrip with jets and helicopters. Henry, it’s safe.”

“It’s over 3,000 miles away!” Henry reminded him.

Phillip’s gaze intensified as he looked deeper into Henry’s eyes. “It’s a little under 2,500.”

“How are we going to get there, Phil? How do you even know it’s still there? How do we know it’s not like—”

Henry caught himself before he said too much. He could see the hurt burn though Phillip’s eyes. Henry could tell Phillip was reliving the moment when he had lost everything. Henry rarely ever saw Phillip in a moment of weakness. It actually scared him. He recoiled slowly as Phillip turned away from him.

“I’m going in there,” Phillip declared before opening the driver’s door.

Henry followed suit as well.

***

Michonne scowled at Carter from afar. She watched closely as he rubbed his receding, blonde crown nervously and paced in circles. Sure the current situation appeared grim, but Carter looked suspicious to the ebony samurai.

“Carter, when exactly did you and Rick separate?” Michonne asked, sneaking up behind him.

Her deep voiced shocked Carter back to reality. Carter nervously turned around, his doughy, blue welted when  they caught sight of Michonne.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t see you standing there,” Carter said, his middle adolescent stutter returning.

“Answer the question. How…long?”Michonne wanted to know where Rick was and if anything had happened to him, even if it was only for personal closure.

“Maybe twenty minutes after we separated from you guys. He asked me if I could make it home by myself. He told me to get back to Alexandria and tell everyone what was happening. And I did just that.” Carter’s posture changed. “You tell me one thing: Where’s Anne?”

Michonne got quiet, and Anne’s death replayed again in her mind. “She didn’t make it.”

“Interesting how that works,” Carter said. “One of yours goes missing, and I get interrogated. One of ours turns up dead, and you have only a four-word response.”

Carter scoffed before walking away.

***

Shane’s heart sank when his eyes met Judith’s cherubic face. In that one moment Shane learned everything he needed know about himself just by gazing into Judith’s baby blues. Shane’s mouth opened in awe at the sight of _his_ daughter. He couldn’t believe it. After losing his pregnant girlfriend Nancy and losing Lori all over again—Shane received _this_ gift. _Maybe there is hope, after all_ , he thought.

“Oh my God, look at you,” Shane said in aww. “Can I hold her?”

Carol’s body tensed at the thought of Shane holding Judith. She knew Rick would have none of that. But it was Carl who made the decision for the both of them.

“ _Sure_ ,”Carl gaily replied. “You still remember how to hold babies?”

“Are you kidding? I changed your fucking diapers, remember?” Shane said before reaching out to Judith.

Carl handed Judith over to Shane, and Carol watched nervously. Usually Judith was skittish around strangers, but she oddly took an immediate liking to Shane.

“Look at that _smile_!” Shane exclaimed with glee. “Did you just fart? You stinky little chimp. Aren’t you the cutest little thing!”

Shane began to pace and rock a giggling Judith as Carol and Carl both watched. Carl smiled broadly, happy to have a missing piece of his family back. “If only Mom were here.”

Carol shot Carl a quick look. “I’m sure she would have a lot to say about this.”

Carl didn’t see the ominous look Carol gave him. He was too pleased watching Shane and Judith interact. The sight brought a warmness to Carl’s heart that had been missing for some time. It felt like being back in Kings County all over again.

“She looks like my mom.”

“Carl, your mom was a brunette with dark eyes,” Shane said, almost dismissing the notion.

“Yeah, she’s on the fair side, like Rick,” Carol added, giving a small elbow to Shane’s ego.

Shane lifted the baby into the air and took a good look. Shane, like Lori, had dark features. But Shane’s mother’s grandmother Jean and his mother Sandra both had light blonde hair with green eyes. Shane got most of his darker features from his Hasidic-Russian father. Shane looked deep into Judith’s eyes, desperately searching for his reflection.

***

Phillip had waited long enough. He angrily stormed inside the brownstone. “Shane!” Phillip loudly called out.

The sound of his voice broke Shane’s concentration, and his focus shifted to Phillip and Henry. Phillip took in the sight of Shane holding his daughter, the tight hardness of Shane’s face softened in a way that Phillip had never seen before. Shane was smiling with his whole heart and appeared to be at peace.

In response to Phillip’s intrusion, Carol reflexively cocked the hammer of her revolver and pointed.  

“Whoa there, Granny Goodness, no need to get all aggressive,” quipped Phillip.

“You get the hell out of here while you still can,” Carol said while gritting her teeth.

“No prob; Shane, time to go. Move your ass,” Phillip said assertively.

Shane cut his eyes to Phillip nastily. “What did you say to me?”

“Move…your ass…” Phillip repeated.

Shane had become used to Phillip’s short, New York-style attitude. He even found it somewhat endearing. But right now wasn’t the time for Phillip’s bullshit.

“Do you know who _this is—_ who _they_ are?”

Phillip’s eyes focused on Judith’s soft baby skin, and thoughts of Cameron immediately returned. Phillip’s gut churned, but he did his best to keep his face tight.

“I know _exactly_ who they are. And that is precisely why we need to leave.”

Phillip then focused his eyes on Carl. The boy’s reflex was to scowl back. Carl’s eyes burned an intense blue, and his body prepared to attack if need be.

Phillip’s left eyebrow rose with curiosity. _The little shit has balls_ , thought the soldier. “Carl, right?”

“Don’t you dare talk to him!” Carol immediately shot back.

 _Someone get this bitch a Xanax_ , thought Phillip, but he decided to keep his insult to himself. Phillip elected to simply ignore her and resumed his conversation with Carl.

“I take it if you have survived this long as young as you are, you have probably already done a shit load of things. _Things_ that you dream about. _Things_ that keep you up at night. No way you are a wayward youth of the apocalypse and not getting your hands dirty. I pulled a gun on you yesterday. I was an ass for that.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but Carl appreciated him more because of it. Phillip didn’t talk to Carl like he was a child. Even though Carol knew Carl was capable of killing, she still spoke to him with a baby-talk flair.

“No one got shot,” said Carl

“Damn right,” added Henry.

“Shane, we’re leaving. If we stay, it will get ugly, you know it.”

“I ain’t scared of no Rick Fucking-Grimes,” Shane spat back with hostility.

Shane then locked eyes with a cooing Judith, who seemed to be the only soul at ease in the room.

“Didn’t say you were,” Phillip said. “If he comes back, he’s going to want his daughter, Shane. And he is going to want you gone. I won’t fight him for this place, and I won’t put Henry’s life in danger for it either.”

Shane’s body stiffened. He held Judith close to his chest. The small child could hear Shane’s heart pound like bongos at a dynamic speed. Phillip inspected Shane’s eyes. They were blank. He felt completely disconnected from Walsh. The void between them was so intense Phillip let out a small, muted gasp.

“I get it,” Phillip finally said. He began to step backwards, his eyes still locked with Shane’s.

Shane’s body remained still as he held Judith close.

Carl watched from afar. He found the interaction between Judith somewhat odd and was even more confused when Phillip arrived. Carol had a better understanding of what was happening. Carol knew about the affair between Shane and Lori. Carol even speculated that Judith was really Shane’s child, but kept those thoughts in her head alone.

“You get what?” Shane bounced, somewhat hostile.

“You’re staying, _aren’t_ you?” replied Phillip.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t need to. Look at you. You’ve got everything now. A family, a baby, hell, you even got running water. _WE_ lost everything. You probably don’t want to be on the losing team anymore.”

“And _I didn’t lose anything_ back there,” Shane’s voice grew more hostile. “Phillip Fucking Marco, you really know how to shit on a sunny day.”

“We were almost murdered by a pack of psychopaths. What’s ‘sunny’ about this day?” Phillip retorted. “Fuck this. You’ve made your decision.”

“What’s going on, Phil? Shane?” Henry’s voice was desperate.

He was heartbroken that Shane was abandoning them. His blue eyes moistened as the boy was dealt another blow.

“Don’t cry for him, Henry. Let’s go.”

Henry turned away from Shane and walked towards the exit, not looking back.

Phillip rubbed Henry’s shoulder comfortingly. “We’re gonna be okay. I’m getting us to APOLLO. I promise. We’re getting there.”

Carol’s ears perked. She was glad they were leaving but was curious to know what APOLLO was and how it could be safer than Alexandria. It shocked Carol that anyone would want to leave Alexandria and try their luck out in the world. She had to know what it was. Carol was always a curious cat.

Before exiting, Phillip turned around to say, “Oh yeah, and you’re welcome.”

***

Shane’s chest burned as he watched Phillip and Henry walk out the front door. The confliction in Shane was crushing. In front of him stood everything he wanted—Carl and Judith, his “real” family, the moment with Judith—Shane felt completed.

He would dismiss them both as ghosts, or worst, Walkers. But here they were, alive, and they ached for him like he ached for them. He could tell that by talking to Carl and holding Judith. They were his family.

But then there was his other family, his second family. Phillip had saved his life, and since that day, Shane felt like he owed Phillip. It was a far different relationship than with Rick. Shane already knew everything there was to know about Rick.

Phillip, however, was a mystery. They had spent hours and hours telling each other stories about their former lives. Phillip would tell tales of when he assassinated a Nigerian warlord, which far outdid Shane’s story of petty drug busts. In Phillip and Austin, Shane found kindred spirits in a world that had fallen apart.

The Rockwell family had just as much of an effect as the Grimes, Stu Rockwell even reminded Shane of Rick’s father. Both men were former law enforcement. Stu had even done a tour in Iraq during Desert Storm.

Shane remembered the moment that Stu had taken him out into the woods of Alabama while they were on the road. He told Shane he knew that he was involved with his twenty-four year old daughter, Nancy. Shane told Stu that he loved Nancy, that he had never met a _woman_ who understood him like she did. Stu sanctioned the union, on the condition that Shane promised to keep his family safe.

Shane couldn’t keep that promise. First went Jacob then went Stu, then Austin and Nancy. In tragedy, Phillip, Henry and Shane’s bond had grown even tighter. Shane’s love for them and dedication rivaled his love for Carl and Judith. Then it hit him.

“Shit!” Shane hissed with dismay.

“What?” asked Carol, reholstering her gun.

“I gotta go. Carl, come get your sister.”

“No, you can’t. You just came back to us. You can’t go!” Carl said.

Carol could sense the heat rising in Carl’s chest. Her maternal instincts kicked in. She instinctively collected Judith from Carl and began to rock the now fussing child.

“I’m not even supposed to be here, Carl,” confessed Shane, shaking his head. He couldn’t look into Carl’s eyes, knowing that he was about to hurt the boy.

Carl angrily shoved Shane. “No! You said you wanted to hear _everything._ You said you wanted to know about me! After everything, you can’t just leave like that.”

“I could stay, but I would have to kill Rick, or he would have to kill me.”

“Why? What happened back at Hershel’s farm? Why is all of this happening? Why can’t we be a family again?” Carl’s face was red and distressed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“We can’t because…because I fucked it all up,” confessed Shane. “Rick gets his share of this too, but I guess it started with me.”

“What—what started?” Carl was desperate for answers, answers that Shane refused to give him. “You can’t go and not tell me why.”

“One day, when you’re a man, ask Rick. You look him square in the eyes, and you tell that son of a bitch, today I’m a man, and I deserve to know what happened with you and Shane. And if he respects you, he’ll tell you.”

Shane quickly pulled Carl to him and embraced him warmly. In Carl’s ear, Shane said, “Take care of your sister, you hear me? And you better get married, have kids, grow old. Damn it,Carl, you better live, you hear me?”

Muffled by Shane’s chest and his own tears, Carl replied, “I swear, Shane. I swear to God.”

When Shane pulled away, Carl could see the mistiness in his eyes. 

Shane walked over to Carol, who was still holding Judith, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re one hell of a woman.”

She let out a small chuckle. Images of her mousy past emerged in her mind. She had come so far in so little time. She had become a warrior.

She scoffed. “Why do you say that?”

“’Cause I knew when we  were at the quarry how deep your strength ran. Ed knew too. It scared him so much that he tried to beat it out of you.”

“He made me a monster like him,” Carol replied. The weight of the lives she had taken had begun to weigh on her. “He made me stronger, I guess.”

“Bullshit, Carol,” Shane dismissed. “You were already strong. You just didn’t know it. He did, and it scared him.” Shane placed his hand on Carol’s face. “You‘re one hell of a woman, Carol, and you can rock the hell out of a pixie cut,” said Shane before breaking into a small laugh.

Carol playfully slapped Shane’s arm in response.

Shane then focused his eyes on Judith. “Judith, I don’t know how long it will be before I see you again. Maybe you’ll be walking for the first time, or maybe you’ll be walking down the aisle. But I promise I’m coming back to you.” Shane leaned in and kissed the child’s cheek. He whispered, “Daddy’s coming back. I promise.”

Only Carol could clearly hear Shane, but Carl became suspicious of this interaction.

Shane released them from his grip, slowly walking backwards towards the door.

“You don’t have to go,” pleaded Carl.

“Yeah, I think I should, though. I mean, you all got a nice little community here. No point of me being in the mix.”

“What do you want me to tell Rick?” asked Carol. “I know you two have a history. I’m sure he has a lot to tell you. What do you want me to tell him?”

Shane thought about staying in Alexandria. He truly entertained the idea for a moment. “The fact that I’m leaving says enough. Rick will be thrilled for that, so I guess you can tell him…” Shane scanned his brain for something poignant but decided to use something stolen. “Tell him: You’re Welcome.”

***

Phillip was gearing up for whatever was outside of these gates. He was sure there were some Wolves still hiding about. He even speculated that the attack on Alexandria was only the first wave. Either way, he wasn’t going to be caught with his pants down.

Phillip kept his Berettas at his waist but also collected extra clips and stuffed them in holsters that lined his chest. He also grabbed his AK-47 and headed for the driver’s door.

“Henry, make sure you’re locked and loaded. We need to be ready for what happens next,” Phillip announced.

“What is going to happen next?” asked Henry,

“We head west, until we hit the 395. If memory serves me right, and it does…”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Phillip saw Shane approaching. Phillip’s body turned hard, even though Shane was here now, he knew his heart was not. Phillip struggled with rejection and usually overcompensated with sarcasm. He would stick to that formula.

“Oh, look who joined us.”

Shane had no patience for Phillip’s bullshit. Shane quick ran up to Phillip and shoved him angrily. Phillip was shocked when Shane was able knock him off his feet.

“Do you _know_ what I had to give up?” screamed Shane.

Shane had never been as strong as Phillip, physically or emotionally. But in this bizarre change of events, the alpha was now the beta. Phillip sensed something else was afoot.

Shane was surprised as well. Since he’d known Phillip and Austin, Shane had been amazed by their abilities, specifically Phillip’s. Shane had watched Phillip and Austin move a Greyhound bus with only Stu’s assistance.

“Well, this is new,” Phillip said, still somewhat dumbfounded.

Shane extended his hand to help Phillip up, but it was rejected.

“Austin asked you this when we left the farm,” Phillip said. “And I’m going to ask you today. Are you with us, or not?”

Shane got in Phillip’s face, towering only a few inches above him. “I’m here, ain’t I?”

“Fucking-aye,” replied Philip.

The three men embraced each other. Henry and Phillip rubbed Shane’s back. “We’re stuck together, you hear me?” said Shane. “Don’t ever try to leave me behind again.”

“We’re gonna be okay. We’re going to make it through this,” Shane declared. “So where are we going?”

“California,” Phillip announced before heading towards the PYTHON.

Shane put his hand on his hip, and his face contorted with confusion. “Did he just say California?”

“What? Not up for a road trip?” Henry teased before giving Shane a light tap on the shoulder. Henry too headed towards the PYTHON.

“Hey, get in the back!” Shane said.

***

Carl watched from the window, his eyes dry of all the tears he could ever cry. Carl watched as the three piled into the Humvee and then the engine roared as it was brought to life. And slowly the vehicle crept away, heading towards the gates of Alexandria.

***

As Phillip approached the gate, he saw a group of Alexandrians all gathered by it. He recognized some of them; Spencer, Deanna, Michonne and Maggie, even Aaron waited at the gate.

“I guess he wanted to see me off,” Phillip said aloud.

“Real cute,” Shane said sarcastically before lighting a cigarette.

“Where did you find those?” asked Phillip.

“I stole them from Carol,” confessed Shane.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” replied Phillip. He quickly rolled down the window and yelled, “Hey, can we get this gate open?” before he quickly hit his horn.

Outside of the vehicle, another voice could be heard screaming in the distance. Deanna  saw a horde of the dead on the horizon. The growling voices of dead could be heard, growing into a rumble that sent shivers through her body.

“OPEN THE GATE!!!” a voice screamed.

Deanna struggled to make out the figure running towards the gate.

By this time Phillip, Shane, and Henry had all exited the vehicle. Maggie’s eyes dilated at the sight of Shane.

Shane’s eyes connected with Maggie’s. He gave her a light nod, but she could only stare. She was stuck in autopilot and could only worry about Glenn.

Deanna began to pant heavily as the wall of dead continued to head toward Alexandria. In the distance, Rick Grimes could be seen. On his tail was an army of over 650 Walkers, and they all were heading for Alexandria.

 

***


	12. Episode 3, Part 2 "The Black Swan"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gates of Alexandria are flooded with the dead and the community is turning against Rick. With Shane's animosity towards Rick, will he help the group and put the final nail in the coffin of Alexandria.
> 
> Part 3 will be updated on 6/12... #Spoiler Rick and Shane will face off...

Ep3 P2

“The Black Swan”

 

It had been days since Rick Grimes blasted Pete’s brains out in front of the people of Alexandria. Those images would never wash out of Carter’s mind. Sure, Pete was a jerk. He had clearly been beating his wife Jessie. But he was also a surgeon. His skills were vital to the community.

Alexandria had the policy that as long as your “lifestyle” didn’t interfere with the greater community, you were free to live. Deanna set it up that way. It was the only way it could be. There was no one to enforce the law or be the moral compass. Then Rick Grimes showed up.

Before they knew it, the new “Community Constable” was very involved in the Jessie and Pete’s marriage. Carter speculated Rick’s inappropriate amount of interest in Jessie was the true reason why Rick had wanted Pete out of the way. In Carter’s eyes, Rick merely wanted Pete’s wife and family.

The truth, however, lay somewhere in the middle.

The night Pete was executed by Rick, Carter had decided that a coup was needed. The first person Carter reached out to was Nicholas. His face had still been cut and swollen from the beating Glenn delivered the night prior. When Carter purposed the plan to him, he packaged it rather well. Carter believed that new government needed to be established, and ever since Rick and his group arrived, there had been a dynamic power shift. He encouraged Nicholas to find others who might be interested in the “New Alexandria.” Nicholas didn’t exactly refuse, but he wasn’t exactly on board either.

From Nicholas he learned a new understanding of this world. That who you were as person _still_ mattered. That to be human, you must maintain your humanity and not give into the insanity of today’s world. Even though Glenn had survived through so much while on the road with Rick, he never had to take a human life. Glenn remained a good man through it all, never surrendering his humanity and always striving for the best in others.

Twelve nights earlier, Nicholas had lured Glenn to the forest to kill him. It seemed like the shadows of the forest was the preferred place to stage such treacherous acts. Nicholas couldn’t deal with the guilt of knowing that he’d abandoned Spencer’s brother Aiden, leaving him to be devoured by the dead. And Glenn’s self-righteous face reminded him that he was also responsible for Noah’s death. Killing Glenn would free him of this guilt, or at least that was what he’d thought.

Nicholas would go on to challenge Glenn but fail at his attempts at murder. Glenn had more mercy for Nicholas than Rick had for Shane. Their situations were parallel: a dark confrontation in the forest between two men who were convinced that one of them _had_ to die. Glenn feared that, if he ever crossed that line where he had to kill, there would be no return. He was unsure if he could live in a world where killing other humans was as common as killing a fly.

Glenn had been skeptical of Nicholas when he elected to help Rick with the Walkers at the quarry. He did believe that Nicholas wanted to be forgiven, but Glenn wasn’t ready to forgive. Even though Glenn buried it deep inside, he still had a deep hatred for Nicholas. But Alexandria would need everybody they could get for Rick’s plan to be executed.

So much had happened, and it all led up to here—an alley on the outskirts of Alexandria, Virginia. When half of Walkers broke off during Rick’s plan, many of them flooded into a small neighborhood. Nicholas, Michonne, Annie, Glenn, Heath, and Scott were surrounded by the dead. Glenn and Nicholas decided to lure the dead away with fire, burning a feed store, while Michonne and the others separated.

The feed store had already burned to ashes. Nicholas had no plan B and the herd was rushing forward like a tidal wave of death. The wave crept closer until it could no longer be kept at bay. It surrounded Nicholas and Glenn in an alley where the two men stood upon a dumpster.

The moaning faces of the Walkers hypnotized Nicolas. He became transfixed by the sea of faces in various stages of decay. The stench of rot soured the air while the Walkers desperately clawed at Nicholas and Glenn’s feet.

Nicholas knew this was it. This was the moment when his karma caught up him. For Aiden and Noah and all the others Nicholas had abandoned in the past. He would pay for their messy deaths with his life.

“NICHOLAS!!!!” shrieked Glenn.

Nicholas’ eyes had gone vacant as he faded out of reality. Glenn needed Nicolas to keep his head in the game or they both would die.

Nicholas’ expression softened when he reoriented and saw Glenn’s face. Glenn was the last person who believed in him. In a world submerged in death, small glimmers of goodness went a long way. Nicholas had tried to kill Glenn, and it was _Glenn_ who still believed in him.

In a small whisper, Nicholas told Glenn, “Thank you,” before pointing the barrel of his gun at his brain.

Glenn desperately shook his head. “No-no-no-no!”

A moment later, a blast of crimson mist burst into Glenn’s face, staining his skin with Nicholas’ blood. Sloppily, Nicholas’ lifeless body knocked both men off the dumpster, sending them into the sea of the dead. Nicholas’ deadweight pinned Glenn to the ground, and the dead feasted upon the fallen.

***

In Alexandria, the herd of Walker rushed towards the walls as Rick bolted towards the gate. The gate was wide open, in preparation for Shane’s departure, but those plans were shelved. Phillip’s eyes went empty as he watched Rick Grimes rush towards Alexandria. His breath felt like hallow vapors in his chest, and his vision began to smear. Phillip had never encountered so many Walkers, and this wave of death was crashing upon them all.

Locked on the view, Phillip gripped his AK-47 and began to spray into the crowd of the dead. He was spellbound by the image of his bullets blasting into the brains of the Walkers. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… One by one, Phillip landed head shots at Walkers, killing them with his sharpshooter accuracy.

The bullets were silenced, so Rick didn’t hear the firing of Phillip’s machine gun. Sweat and grime mixed with blood had seeped into Rick’s eyes, nearly blinding him, yet he kept running from the dead. Rick barely sidestepped an oncoming Walker as he ran towards the gates of Alexandria.

Rick’s quickly used his sleeve to wipe his eyes to get a better view of his path. His eyes dilated when he saw Phillip aiming an assault rifle in his direction. The sheriff’s pupils shrunk further when he saw Phillip step out of the walls of Alexandria, purposely getting closer to the on-coming army of Walkers. Phillip kept firing, only changing his magazine once, before resuming his attack.

Henry noticed the army of Walkers was too much for Phillip to handle alone, so he too joined in on the assault. Henry blasted his M-16 into the crowd of the dead, but he lacked Phillip’s accuracy.

Shane was pissed. _He’s fucking flipping out again,_ he thought. Phillip had blanked out like this before; right before Shane was shot. “Phillip, what in the hell are you doing?!”

Shane joined the other men, firing his assault rifle as well. His eyes sharpened when his gaze focused on Rick’s ocean blue eyes.

 _You_ , Shane and Rick simultaneously thought with great malice and hate. But Rick quickly disconnected his gaze with Shane’s as he ran past him and into the Alexandria Safe-Zone. Phillip, however, was still entranced. He had now abandoned his assault rifle and was firing with his extended clip Magnum.

 _He’s going to get himself killed,_ thought Shane. He had to quickly defuse this situation. Though Phillip and Henry had killed many Walkers, more and more had rushed forward. While still firing, Shane gestured to Henry to fall back, which the teen complied with. Phillip, however, was still on autopilot, firing his weapon and delivering one-shot fatalities to the Walkers.

From behind, Shane grabbed him. “There are too many. We have to get back!”

“I can do it. I don’t need your help!” protested Phillip.

Rick’s eyes focused on the gate. He entertained the idea of closing the gate and allowing the dead to rip Phillip and Shane to shreds, finally ending his agitation. However, Rick wouldn’t get the opportunity. Carl joined in to provide cover fire for Phillip and Shane.

“Let’s go. Let’s go!” screamed Carl, desperately trying to get the two men to return inside.

Shane and Carl’s screams ultimately broke Phillip’s psychosis, and the two men darted towards the gates.  As they entered, a wall of Walkers smashed into the irons gates. Flesh and blood from the Walkers oozed from the pressure of the Walkers against the gates. Shane and Phillip both panted heavily. They’d made it, but just barely.

Shane hacked up mucus, spitting on the ground. He scowled at Phillip angrily before scoffing with agitation.

Phillip’s breath was labored as he gathered his thoughts. His eyes were focused on the greyness of the sky and velvet clouds. He began to count backwards as he tried to bring himself back from a panic attack.

“Do you hear that?!” Rick said to the people of Alexandria. “The Walkers from the quarry broke out early. We had to make our move today. We didn’t have time to prepare, but we executed it as best we could. The gunfire and the horn drew the Walkers to our gates. But Sasha and Abraham are still out there, and they have their vehicles. We’ll use the radios, and we will draw them away from our walls. These walls—these walls will hold. Will you?”

Shane scowled at Rick from afar, but he wasn’t the only one firing arrows at Rick from the crowd. Both Spencer and Carter glared at Rick. He was like a cancer. Piece by piece, he was destroying Alexandria, and with this latest act, he may have sealed the fate of the Safe-Zone.

“We’re all gonna die,” whimpered Carter under his breath. Only Maggie heard his words. His voice sparked her from her catatonia.

As Rick marched off with his son and Michonne in tow, Shane called out, “Good to see you still gettin’ people killed, Rick.” 

Rick kept marching, ignoring Shane’s taunt. Shane was dead to him, and if he continued his bullshit, Rick was going to feed him to the Walkers outside of the walls of Alexandria. Carl and Michonne, however, turned around. Carl’s eyes exposed his hurt. When Shane realized his barb also hit Carl with shrapnel, he immediately regretted his words. Shane’s eyes said as much when he met Carl’s eyes.

Shane’s eyes then refocused on Phillip, who sat on the cement ground with his hands covering his face in distress.

“Jeez Louise,” moaned Shane. “Phillip, I need your head in the game. C’mon, you’re _supposed_ to be the brains of this operation.”

“I’m trying to think,” Phillip replied, his hands still over his eyes.

Phillip had finally collected himself from his panic attack, and in mere moments, he had begun to create the blueprints of a plan. Phillip stood, took in a quick breath and completely collected himself. For his plan to work, he needed to sound convincing.

“Hey, show of hands—how many of you want to die?!” Phillip screamed out to the crowd of Alexandrians.

Maggie’s eyes intensified with curiosity as she examined Phillip’s posture. Phillip, even in this dire moment, appeared poised and confident. The blunt, boldness of his question took Maggie by surprise.  

“I take that silence to mean no one. Smart crowd. So we can all sit around waiting for Rick’s dead friends to return, or we can start making our own plans.”

“How do you know they are dead?” Maggie replied. “What makes you think Rick’s plan won’t work?”

“I don’t know, maybe because his plan didn’t work in the first-fucking place. Had it worked, we wouldn’t have all these stiffs at our gates. I do appreciate the comments, but I need more ‘solution-oriented’ feedback. Thanks. Any other ideas?”

“What the hell do you have to add besides sarcasm?” Spencer said angrily.

“Actually, I have a way to get us out of here. You see, even if these walls never come down, those things out there can just starve us out. So waiting around probably wouldn’t be the best idea. The only way to end this problem is to kill every last one of those things out there.”

“How?” asked Carter.

“You got guns, don’t you?” replied Phillip. “Gunners with silencers can take to the towers and fire at the dead below. It may take you a few hours, but you will fix your Walker problem.”

“That could be all our ammo,” said Aaron.

“A full clip doesn’t mean shit if you’re being devoured,” retorted Phillip. “Besides, we’re willing to help you clear a third of the Walkers. The rest is all on you. You’re going to have to decide for yourselves—live or die.”

***

Denise asked Shane and his group to find somewhere else to hang their hats. Unfortunately, for Rick Grimes, the home selected for Shane Walsh, Henry Rockwell and Phillip Marco was the home formerly occupied by the late Erwin. Upon entering the home, the men made sure to step over the body of Erwin, which still lay at the porch.

“Cute lawn gnome, Aaron,” taunted Phillip.

“Hey!” Aaron screamed, aggressively grabbing Phillip’s shoulder and pinning him to the wall. “Erwin was my friend. Show her some respect.”

Aaron could hear the click of the hammer of a handgun. “And that’s my friend, so get your hands off him,” said Henry.

Shane chuckled. “Everyone’s so dramatic today.”

He entered the home with handgun drawn. He scanned the area, looking for possible Walkers or even worse, surviving Wolves. His eyes darted around the sparsely-decorated home.

“There’s no one inside,” said Aaron. “Erin lived alone.”

“I’m more worried about her recent houseguest,” said Shane, his eyes still scanning the room. “I’ll go check upstairs.” Shane crept up the stairs with a cat-like stalk.

Phillip watched Shane, somewhat amused by the theatrical display. “Well he’s feeling better. I hope he finds something. Henry, find some sheets.”

“We already have blankets,” Henry said, now sitting on Erin’s couch, his feet propped up on her coffee table.

“It’s not for us. It’s for her. And get your feet down!” retorted Phillip.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” whined the teen.

Henry collected himself and went in search of clean linen.

“I was an ass for what I said about your friend,” Phillip confessed to Aaron. “I used to be really good at being social. I used to have friends. I used to host parties at my brownstone—now I don’t even know how to be nice to people anymore. I’m basically feral.”

“No, you’re just rusty,” Aaron said before placing his hand on Phillip’s shoulder. “Thank you, for helping us. Even if you left us back there.”

“I had to find my people,” Phillip said with a shrug. “We’re all we got now. Things have changed so much in so little time, Aaron. If you only—”

“If I only knew what?” drilled Aaron.

From the shadows, Shane listened close to this interaction. Shane was suspicious of Aaron. Fearing that he could be an operative of Rick, Shane interjected, “Where’s Henry?”

“He’s getting sheets. We’re burying her,” Phillip declared with a soldier’s delivery.

Shane’s eyebrows rose at the tone of Phillip’s voice. “Yo, Jarhead, I’m not you’re fucking-subordinate.”

“Yeah, you sorta are,” replied Phillip.

“If you say so, Marco.” Shane grabbed a bowl of ravioli abandoned on the kitchen table. Shane quickly began to gobble down the food. He could feel the heat of the stares from Phillip and Aaron to which he simply said, “What?”

“Are you just going to eat the dead woman’s food?” scowled Phillip.

“Well, it’s not like she’s going to need it,” replied Shane as he finished the bowl.

***

Michone updated Rick on the recent events in Alexandria. Rick rinsed his hand in the sink, cleaning the cut in his palm from earlier that day.

“How many was it?” asked Rick, his eyes glued on his wound.

“Not sure. I came right after,” answered Michonne.

“It may have been thirty or so,” said Carol. “Shane helped.”

Rick turned off the faucet before turning around to face the group. Rick’s group consisted of twelve people. But within that group, was his true inner circle: Carol, Michonne, Daryl, Carl, and Glenn, who was MIA. Of all the people Rick worked with, their counsel was favored above all others. Rick was the group’s leader, but within his dictatorship existed a parliament.

“How do we know he wasn’t behind this?” Rick said. “He just _shows_ up right when everything goes to hell?”

“It’s unlikely, Rick. He _helped_ kill them, he and his people,” Carol could still smell the sweetness of Shane’s skin; a small smile appeared on her face.

Rick caught that—and he didn’t like it at all. “Don’t forget who Shane is.”

“We haven’t,” said Carl. “He told me himself.”

“You spoke to him?” Rick’s voice was hostile, but his tone dropped almost to a whisper. “He was in this house, wasn’t he?”

“He just checked on Carl and the boy—Henry. As you can see, Rick, things got pretty bad here.” Carol had hoped some of the venom in Rick’s heart for Shane had lessened.

“Phillip was with me and Aaron for a minute, before he took off,” added Daryl. “Not real heroic if you ask me.”

“They wanted to get out of here—and fast,” said Michonne. “He was banging his horn like a mad man. Where were they going?”

“Phillip did say they were going to somewhere— _Apollo_.” Carol searched her memory of the maps and streets signs from the group’s voyage to Alexandria. “Is that a city in Virginia?”

“Don’t know,” confessed Rick. “Carl, he say anything to you about ‘ _Apollo’_?”

“Shane didn’t say anything about it. It was his friend Phillip.”

“He talks like _he’s_ calling the shots, not Shane,” Carol added.

She could sense the energy in the room when Phillip and Shane were together. Though Shane wasn’t exactly a peon, Phillip appeared to be making the group’s decisions.

“We have way bigger shit to worry about than Shane Walsh. He stays out of our way and _out_ of my house, and we won’t have a problem. Besides, when Sasha and Abraham come back, they are going to lead those Walkers away from these walls and Shane Fucking Walsh can follow right behind ‘em.”

“But, Dad…” Carl attempted to interject.

“This is non-negotiable. When this is done, when those Walkers are away from our gates, Shane is gone!”

The words hit Carl like a Mack truck. Rick had laid down the law, and it would not be challenged. Carl knew there was more to this story. If Shane’s days in Alexandria were numbered, Carl would learn the truth behind Shane and Rick’s falling out.

“I thought Shane was two steps from hell the last time I saw him, and now he’s running around here?”

“He looked pretty banged up to me,” said Michonne. “Is he a problem that we should address now?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I won’t hesitate to deal with it,” declared Rick Grimes.

***

 

Deanna had decided to make an impromptu visit to the home formerly owned by Erin Wright but now currently occupied by Shane, Phillip and Henry. “You three, in the kitchen, now!” demanded Deanna as she entered the home without invitation.

“Nice to see you again, Deanna,” answered Phillip. “Granted, I thought I was going to be at least a hundred miles west at this point, but it is nice to see a semi-familiar face.”

“I want to start with saying, on behalf of the people of Alexandria, thank you for assisting us in our time of need. Without any prompt, all three of you put your lives on the line to protect strangers. Strangers that pulled guns on you when your friend was dying before you. Henry, Phillip, Shane, we thank you.”

“Well, that’s how you welcome someone,” said Shane, he propped his body cockily against the kitchen wall.

“We started off on the wrong foot, but many great friendships begin that way,” Deanna said.

Shane replied with a condescending scoff.

“ _Thou has't little hope_ ,” replied Deanna, giving her deep stare down.

She wanted to see inside Shane’s soul, as she did Rick’s. She had already read Phillip. She concluded that he was outwardly cool, but underneath his sarcastic veneer lay a vulnerable center. Henry wore his feelings on his sleeves, and the innocence of his spirit was obvious.

But Shane was very different. Shane, like Deanna, kept a tight poker face when around new people. Shane naturally becomes more abbreviated and hostile towards strangers, even when they were helping him. Deanna would be treated no differently.

He could sense her studying him, so he scanned her as well.

“No, I just don’t believe in fairytales. Like that fairytale Rick told you—about his friends coming back to somehow lure all these dead sons of bitches away. I still have hope, just not stupid that’s all.”

“That was really rude,” Henry said, slightly under his breath.

“Deanna, you have to excuse Shane,” Phillip said. “He’s a tad undomesticated. I just got him housebroken. But he’s not exactly wrong about our current state of affairs. This ‘wait and see’ idea that Richard came up with is a really bad one.”

“Well, **_Rick_ ** has a handle on things like this. I have faith in his leadership,” Deanna answered.

“Ain’t you supposed to be the leader?” Shane said, digging deeper into Deanna.

“True leadership is defined by not only status, but the ability to see the potential in others. I guess that’s why Rick was always the lead sheriff.” Deanna sent a small jab in Shane’s direction, and smiled, pleased with her actions.

“I see you’ve been talking to Rick about me,” Shane replied, his right eyebrow arching with curiosity.

“A little bit,” Deanna confessed.

Shane let out a little chuckle, “Well, if you wanted to get to know me, all you had to do was come see me, baby.”

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” Deanna was hip to Shane’s little mind game, and she wasn’t above getting in the mud with him if need be.

Shane noticed that Deanna wasn’t shaken by his somewhat inappropriate come ons. He was slightly annoyed he couldn’t shake her. “Wow, Rick’s already got you believing fairytales about me. No wonder you think that little plan is going to work.”

“Then what should we be doing?” Deanna dug.

She figured that if Rick and Shane had been friends for so many years, they had to have something in common. _Valor_ , that was what it was. Under all of Shane’s arrogance and childish tantrums lay the heart of a courageous man. Shane took shots at Rick and Deanna, but his main focus was the plan. His brain was cooking up potential plan B’s and C’s and Deanna wanted to find out what those plans were.

“We should be doing Phillip’s plan. You saw him back there. He’s got this sideshow-freakish Hawkeye trick; never misses his target.”

“Did you just compare me to a fucking carny?” Phillip interjected.

“The point is, you can do it. Get him some back up—send Daryl up there with ‘em. I’ll go. I’ll even stomach Rick being there, and we’ll clear all of those Walkers at these gates. Guarantee it.”

“Could be all our ammo,” Deanna added.

“Refer to my ‘full clip doesn’t mean anything if your being devoured’ speech, operative word— _devoured_. Besides, I’m a really good shot. I don’t think it will take all your bullets, but you gotta be prepared to sacrifice it.”

“I’m more interested in how you plan on working with Rick Grimes to pull something like this off. You two probably couldn’t even handle a game of tic-tac-toe.” Deanna liked the idea of having the men clear the gates of Alexandria of the dead. But she suspected with all the high emotions and gunfire, Shane or Rick may be just as likely to fire at each other. “Ever since Rick and his group arrived at the gates of Alexandria, I knew there was something exceptional about him. But you can learn a lot about a person by the people they’ve loved.”

“What does that mean?” Shane replied.

“It means you and Rick are a lot alike. You wouldn’t have carried on as long as you did if you weren’t. We are in dire circumstances, and you two have pointed daggers at each other’s neck when you should’ve instead been ramming them into the brains of those Walkers.” Deanna approached Shane and placed her right hand on his shoulder so his absent eyes could see hers. “You can go back to hating each other after all of this is over—but right now you need each other.”

Shane shook his head and backed away from Deanna a few steps, “I ain’t ever gonna need Rick Grimes. Perhaps your community does. I imagine he keeps the peace here. But me, never needed him.”

“Maybe he needs you,” Deanna said. “Try to talk to him. I’ll even facilitate it at my house. No guns, just words. We make a truce, we work together, and after we’re done with our current dilemma, we can talk about your future here in Alexandria. And, Shane, you have a big future here.” Deanna gave Shane a friendly, and somewhat masculine, pat on the shoulder before exiting. “I expect to see you at my place in an hour. Time isn’t on our side.”

As Deanna headed out of the home, Phillip quickly brainstormed. “You should do it.”

“Fuck that. I’m never breaking bread with Rick Grimes. He can kiss the whitest part of my ass.” Shane dismissed the notion, breaking his eye contact with Phillip. He was more interested in what was in the fridge anyway.

There was too much distance between Shane and Phillip, so the soldier got closer. Shane scrambled through the sparsely-stocked fridge, which mostly held some jarred mystery soups.

Phillip positioned himself right near Shane’s left ear with the refrigerator a barrier between them. “No, listen up. For us to have our way, we have to play ball,” Phillip spoke in a lower tone. He knew Shane didn’t respond well to being forced to do something.

“Yeah… I’m not eating this bullshit,” Shane dismissed as he pushed around the jars in the refrigerator. “And I’m not eating any of the bullshit you’re trying to feed me either, Marco.”

“Shane, you want to know how the civil rights movement was successful?” countered Phillip.

Shane was so thrown by the question he had to look at Phillip, his faced contorted like an origami by Phillip’s question. “The fuck does _that_ of all things have to do with anything?”

“Well, shut up, and I’ll explain it to you. They knew the way back then. The best way to move the public in your favor was by keeping the moral high ground. So while protestors were getting hosed and attack by dogs, the name of the game was to not fight back. That’s how we get the people on _our_ side.”

 _“_ Not fight back—count me out,” Shane said.

“Well, we won’t do it exactly like they did it back then. Shane, we aren’t dealing with a small group of people. If they banded together, they could feed us to those things out there. But there is one small caveat. Many of these people really dislike Rick Grimes. We play our cards right, this can only go in our favor.”

***

  
“I’m not doing it, Deanna. It’s out of the question.” Rick wasn’t interested in talking to Shane about anything. “I might stab him again.”

“Rick…” Deanna pressured. “He is here, you are here, and you can’t avoid each other. Do you not see this is fate?”

“Deanna, we don’t have time for riddles or myths, so tell me, what good would it do for _us_ if I talked to Shane Walsh?”

Rick’s hand was on his hip as he leaned closer into Deanna’s personal bubble. The two were outside, helping the others clear the Wolves left over from the attack. The sun had begun to set over the Virginia sky, and the Walkers buzzed beyond the walls. Their snarling voices could be heard in the background as the Deanna and Rick debated.

“This isn’t about you _or_ Shane. It’s about Alexandria. It’s about the greater good of this community. Now they believe that Sasha and Abraham are gone—”

“They _ain’t!_ ” Rick retorted.

“They could be, or maybe they just are blocked by the herd of Walkers outside of these walls. Either way, we are on our own.” Deanna’s voice was peppered with desperation as she stared intensely into Rick’s eyes. “They have weapons and ammunition; they are willing to help us.”

“Phillip bragged about having all that ammo. If he knows he’s right, why don’t he just handle this problem himself?” countered Rick.

“Because they are guests in this community. We must take ownership of it. If Sasha and Abraham do not return, we must have a solid plan. And for this plan to work, all old swords must be lowered, today. You and Shane _will_ have to work together at some point, so you’re going to have to get over it, Rick.”

“You have no idea what he’s done—what he’s _capable_ of doing. He’s a cancer, and he will spread. Looks like he’s already spreading.”

“Your friend comes off like a cocky little shit. He hasn’t _won_ me over, if that’s what you’re implying,” Deanna coarsely countered. “He also comes off stubborn, like you. I’m not asking for you to be best buddies again. All I want is for you two to meet and extend a détente.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to do this together, Rick. Then we’ll talk about what will happen after—after _all this_.”

Rick’s eyes narrowed as his head tilted to the right slightly. “You’re not thinking of letting Shane, Shane Walsh, stay here, are you?”

“I’m not sure if he would stay at this point,” Deanna confessed with a shrug. “I expect you at my place in an hour, Rick. We can’t just avoid our _worst demons_ , not anymore. None of us can hide from them anymore.”

Deanna turned and headed towards her home. As much as her speech was for Rick, it was for herself as well.

***

Carter could no longer wait around for an opportunity to kill Rick Grimes. Thanks to Rick, the fate of the Alexandrians was sealed. Carter didn’t buy Aaron’s mea culpa that Rick prevented more Walkers from reaching Alexandria. In Carter’s mind, Aaron was weak, and his homosexuality didn’t help matters either. Alexandria was being poisoned by Rick’s presence, but his ascension was due to Deanna’s leadership. Carter would keep his disdain for Deanna close to his chest, especially since he would need Spencer’s help to stage this coup.

Holed up in his home, Carter was also surrounded by twenty-five other Alexandrians. Of attendance was Spencer, and Olivia, but Carter had the ears and minds of all the members there.

“When did we start having issues in this community? When did _core_ members of _our_ community start dying? When did _we_ lose control of this place? When Rick Grimes and his merry bunch showed up at our doors. We should have killed them at the gates, but _we_ were weak. We can’t be weak, not anymore!

“We built this place, brick by brick, by brick. And these people, like a plague of locus have brought nothing but death and destruction. We have been punished, for what? Helping them? Feeding them? Bringing them into our homes and making them a part of this community? Not anymore…

“So we’re going to take this place back, brick by brick—body by body. And a _new_ Alexandria will be born.”

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Episode 3, Part 3 "Cain and Abel"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Rick finally FACE OFF!

 

**"Cain and Abel"**

Phillip and Shane marched towards Deanna’s home. Phillip decided to take a quick shower and change into his green and white Dartmouth running suit. He also released his hair and allowed it to flow freely down his shoulders. Hidden between the dark, wavy strands was his radio earpiece lodged in his right ear. Shane was going to talk to Rick in “private” while Shane wore a live wire.If their plan was going to work, Phillip would have to learn more about Rick. The best way to learn about Rick Grimes was to find out how he thought.

“I never got a chance to go undercover. I lived in a small town.Never got to do any fun stuff,” said Shane.

“Well, you join the big boys today,” quipped Phillip. “Now, Shane, I want you to lightly get under his skin when you talk.”

“Get under his skin, yeah, that’s going to be _real hard_ ,” Shane replied sarcastically.

“Key word is ‘lightly.’ If everything blows up in two seconds then this whole thing will be pointless.”

Phillip only knew about Rick by what Shane had told him, but Phillip wasn’t a fool. He was sure that Shane’s version of Rick was somewhat bias. To turn the people completely against Rick, he would need to _know_ Rick.

When they entered Deanna’s home, they were greeted by Michonne and Deanna. Rick sat in the corner scowling as Shane walked in.

“It’s good you two made it,” Deanna said, greeting the men with a hardy handshake. “This is Michonne.She is one of our constables here in Alexandria. And I guess you both know Rick.”

“Not me,” said Phillip. “Only by reputation.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Rick said, now abandoning his corner to meet Shane face to face. “Let’s go have this talk.”

“Remember,no guns,” Phillip began than quickly darted his eyes to Rick, “or knives.”

Rick’s gaze remained locked with Shane’s, who matched his intensity. Shane even added a condescending smirk as he mirrored Rick’s stare. “I’m unarmed.”

“A little birdy told me you tried this move before. Shane ended on the sharp end of a pocket knife. How do we know you’re not armed?” asked Phillip.

“What?You want to come pat me down?” Rick replied, still looking at Shane.

“Is that an invitation?” Phillip said with a small smirk.

Michonne’s eyes expanded with shock at Phillip’s saucy response.  Shane was shocked too, frowningslightly in disgust. “Aye, Phil, keep it in your pants. Deanna, is there a place for us?”

“Right in here.”

Deanna opened the door to her study, the very same study where she had interviewed Rick Grimes. It felt like a more than appropriate place for this meeting of the minds. Shane quickly sat in the love seat, legs spread comfortably as Rick sat opposite of him, still donning his intense glare.

“Come on now, Rick, you still not happy to see me?” Shane teased. “You been staring so long, you plan on taking me out to dinner at least? Jeez.”

Rick remained silent.His glare was intense, but he remained mute. His rage was slightly restricted by only one thing: his curiosity. By now, Carl and Carol had both revealed how Shane said he survived what happened at the farm. But Rick still hadn’t accepted it.He still wanted to believe Shane was dead.

“Damn, Rick, you’re still not much of a conversationalist, are you?” Shane said. “That’s fine.Then just listen. Your plan, waiting for your friends to come back,it’s going to get a lot of people killed. Deanna, she likes me, and Phillip’s plan. Now we can work together on clearing—”

“We’re not doing that,” Rick quickly interjected. “We are going to need the ammo in the future against _other_ threats. That’s not negotiable.”

“I disagree, Rick,” countered Shane. “Especially since you’re not exactly the boss here—you’re an employee. You got your cute little mall cop uniform and badge, apparently. It’s almost like back home. But it’s _not_ home is it, Rick?”

“I get how you survived the stabbing. I’ll even buy that bullet not penetrating your brain like it should have. But the herd, how did you survive that?”

Shane bit his bottom lip bashfully.“Took a page out of your book, Rick. I covered myself with a Walker corpse, and they just walked on by. But that was years ago—and might I add, Rick Grimes, you look old as shit, man! I mean it’s been, what, two and a half years?It looks like you’ve aged ten years.”

Shane’s jovial spirit took Rick by surprise.Last time these two men had seen each other, it was with a far darker tone. Shane’s passive aggressive attacks were not missed,but Rick noticed that Shane pretty much looked the same.In fact, he may have actually gained weight. He could have easily put on another fifteen pounds of muscle. But how? While the few survivors struggled for food, Shane looked in better shape than he had been since college.

“You’ve been eating well, I see,” Rick replied.

“What, you can’t be calling me fat, now are you? One of the few good things about hanging with queers is they have a shit load of protein shakes, supplements, hell, most of our diet consists of that shit. It taste awful, but it keeps you at a healthy mass. Plus, when you’re always running for your life, you tend to stay in good shape. I guess being behind these walls has gotten you all relaxed.”

“Do I look relaxed to you, Shane? Does any of this seem like a relaxing environment?”

“No,” confessed Shane. “We have a serious problem,Rick, and you’re doing _it_ again.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting people killed.”

***

As Rick and Shane entered the room alone, Phillip was compelled to state the obvious. “So they’re probably going to try to kill each other.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I think they understand that we havebigger threats out there,” Deanna said. “Rick may surprise.”

Phillip’s eyes lowered, somewhat astonished at how naive Deanna was. “Well, that’s a crock! Those two are probably going to try to kill each other.The only thing _we_ can do is prevent that from happening. Friends don’t let friends kill each other.”

“They had issues years ago,” Michonnesaid, her voice hollow as she studied Phillip. “They may actually patch things up.”

Phillip exploded into laughter. “Are you joking? Do you have any idea what went down between those two?” Phillip searched the darkness in Michonne’s eyes, and it dawned on him. “Oh shit, you _don’t_ know, do you? I guess you’re not as close as you thought you were.”

Michonne’s eyes intensified when the shrapnel of Phillip’s words hit her. Phillip was satisfied with his effect.It also helpedhim understand Rick better. In the world of Rick, no matter how close you were to him, there were still secrets.

Shane had never told Phillip about a female samurai with dreads, so he assumed she appeared after the events at the Greene Farm. Phillip could sense a closenessbetweenMichonneand Rick, even with such little exposure. Phillip was good at picking up vibes. But no matter how close Michonne was to Rick, the ghosts of Shane and Lori remained his deepest secret.

“They are going to have their obligatory cat fight.There’s too much uber-macho energy for there to not be one,” Phillip declared. “I say we let them fight it out a little.Hopefully it will get out of their system.”

“You sound like you want it both ways, Phillip,” Deanna interjected. “You want them to fight it out but not kill each other.”

“They’re cops, Deanna. And they are also grown ass men.We can prevent things from getting lethal, but other than that, I think we should allow nature to run its course. I have more important things to do than play referee all day.”

Phillip wanted to pay attention to Rick and Shane’s conversation.He slid his hand in his right jacket pocket and increased the volume.

“Come on, Rick. You know we can’t just wait for your people to come back. We gotta act, and we gotta act fast.”

***

“Another thing we need to do is spread those deadbitches out,” Shane rattled on. “Probably fire some guns at different corners of the community. Don’t want to have too many pressed against one wall.”

Rick overruled the idea immediately. “It’ll make it harder for Abraham and Sasha to round them up and lead them away from one concentrated area.”

“Rick, they’re dead,” dismissed Shane.

“I thought the same thing about you,” replied Rick.

Shane scoffed.“Like you could get the job done. Luckily Carl’s aim was so shitty or I would have been in trouble.”

Rick grinned sinisterly. “Oh, his aim has gotten a lot better.”

“He told me the same thing,” Shane added with a condescending grin. “Matter of fact, he told me a lot. He even let me hold Judith.”

Rick slammed his fist against the mahogany coffee table that divided the two men. “You stay the hell away from my family.”

Shane couldn’t help chuckling at Rick’s outburst. “Rick, now don’t get all dramatic. We’re friends here.We’re practically family. So you should know I take care of mine.”

“That’s the thing, Shane.We ain’t family, and we never will be. _You_ ruined that.”

“ _I_ ruined everything—me, Rick?” Shane’s eyes narrowed as heat grew in his chest. “ ** _I_** found your family while you sat in a hospital as the whole goddamn world fell apart. **_I_** not only kept them safe but kept the **_group_** safe. Then you showed up, and then people started dying.”

“You don’t know shit, Shane—you never ever did. Even before this, I would just watch you go on and on about the most irrelevant bullshit. I figured you needed the attention. I pitied you, Shane. You never had a daddy, never had a family, never had anything for yourself. The only thing you ever had in your life were short, superficial moments that you would just relive and relive. You wouldn’t shut up about how you won the county championship.Did you get a scholarship? You talk about all the women you were with.Did any of them want your hand in marriage? You preach about when you _used_ to lead, but they knew you would lead them straight into hell.”

Rick was fatigued, and he had no interest in wasting the last bit of his strength on Shane, who just wanted to talk about the past. Classic Shane. “I don’t want to go down memory lane with you, Shane,” Rick said. “So this is how it’s gonna be— _you and your group_ will stay the hell out of this. Anything you put your hands on becomes rotten.”

Shane nodded, somewhat rapidly, in faux agreement with Rick’s statement. “Maybe you’re right, Rick. Everything I put my hands on does go bad, but that’s nothing new. Stating the obvious don’t make you smart, Rick. I could do the same thing. Apparently, your little plan didn’t need my involvement to backfire, did it? I think you have a little displaced anger, Rick. And it’s not because _I’m_ here.It’s because someone else isn’t.”

Rick immediately clenched his fist.Shane knew he was only moments from exploding. “I guess, like I’ve always said,Rick—you _couldn’t_ keep Lori safe.”

***

On the other side of the wall, Phillip listened to the conversation between Shane and Rick. He noticed how Rick maintained a sanctimonious attitude.It was annoying, but it was earned. Phillip learned just from the tone of their interaction that Shane was the reason why everything had gone south. Phillip had known this already, but hearing it from Rick had a more profound effect.

Through a slightly muffled earpiece, Phillip could hear the conversation head in a dark direction. “I guess, like I’ve always said,Rick—you _couldn’t_ keep Lori safe,” said Shane. That was the sound of shit colliding with the fan.

“ _Goddamn it_!” hissed Phillip.

Michonne’s head quickly snapped up, giving her attention to Phillip.She slowly approached him. “What’s the problem?”

Through the wall,Michonne, Deanna, and Phillip could hear the crash of furniture.

“That’s ‘the problem,’” Phillip replied dryly.

***

“ _I guess, like I’ve always said,Rick—you couldn’t keep **Lori** safe…_ ”

Those were the magical words for Rick. Grimes could not, and would not,hold back his rage. Heleapt from his seat, and like a pouncing leopard, knocked Shane to the ground. The back of Shane’s head crashed into the wall adjacent to his seat. Rick showered a hailstorm of punches on Shane, as Walsh used his forearms to shield his face in defense.

Shane could feel the force of Rick’s fists striking against him, but for one reason or another, they lacked a certain ferocity. Perhaps Rick was fatigued.Either way, Shane decided to change the direction of the fight. With a catlike reflex, Shane was able to catch both of Rick’s fists in midstrike. The two men growled at each other, saliva foamed at their mouths as they struggled to overpower each other.

“You done yet, Rick?” Shane mocked, through his teeth.

“I’m just getting started.”

Shane, using all his strength, bashed his skull from below into Rick’s as Rick tried to mount him. The strike dulled Rick’s consciousness and left him open for Shane to deliver two crushing punches to his face. Shane was quick to his feet, but Rick took longer to recover.

“What’s wrong, Old Man Grimes?You can’t fight anymore?” Shane taunted. “Maybe if you knew how to fight, Lori wouldn’t be dead!”

Lori’s name was all the gasoline needed for Rick to regain his vigor. Rick grabbed a cherry wood folding chair and slammed it across Shane’s face, shattering it into pieces. Rick quickly retrieved a jagged piece of the chair and immediately pounced at Shane again. Rick drove the sharpened wood towards Shane’s throat, but his attacked was negated by Shane.

“Come on, Rick! Do it! Do it! Kill me, Rick. Ain’t you man enough, Rick?” Shane frantically taunted. Shane felt a new strength surge through his veins.He held a weary Rick within his hands. Shane could see the blazing rage in Rick’s eyes.It amused him even more. “What’s wrong,Rick, you still can’t get the job done?”

 Phillip, Deanna and Michonne entered the room to see Rick straddling Shane, holding a wood shard at Shane’s throat.

“Yo, drop the shank!”Phillip demanded.

Sweat and saliva collected around Rick’s face as he struggled to drive the wooden dagger into Shane’s face. But Shane’s resistance was unyielding, as was his venom. Shane lowered his voice to a whisper, conscious of the audience behind him, “What’s wrong,Rick, you need me to show you how to stick it in?”

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Rick screamed as he applied more pressure, enough to overwhelm Shane.Luckily,Walsh managed to prevent Rick from ramming the shard into his left eye.

Phillip had seen enough.Without warning, Phillip retrievedMichonne’s sword from its holder. Startled, she was too slow to react. Phillip darted towards the men, leaping over a love seat and placing the blade close to Rick’s throat.

“I asked nicely,” Phillip said dryly. “When this is all over, you two can kill each other, but not a day earlier.”

“Rick, Shane, _separate, now_!” Deanna demanded.Her tone was coarser than Rick had ever heard before.

The two men rose to their feet. Rick transferred his hostile glare to Phillip, who still held Michonne’s blade stiffly. The glare was met with a quick wink from Phillip.

“I brought you into our community, _both of you_. And you will not destroy it from the inside when we have threats on the outside. My husband Regand I made Alexandria what it is, and we did that with the people that are here. You look down on us, Rick.”

Rick’s eyes conveyed a silent protest, but Deanna wouldn’t accept it.

“You do, Rick. You think we’re weak, and maybe we are. But we can’t be weak anymore. _I_ can’t be weak anymore. As the leader of this community, I’m not asking you two to work together, I’m demanding it.

“Now if you want to act like children, then go have a time out. But make sure all of you are back here first thing in the morning. We’re not done figuring this thing out. You’re dismissed.”

Phillip’s eyebrows rose with excitement.He liked this side of Deanna.

A fire grew in Deanna’s belly.She felt alive again. Alexandria needed her. Rick wasn’t ready to assume leadership, and now Deanna was wondering if he ever would be.

“Well this was a total-fucking waste of time,” Shane said, staring Phillip down as he passed him. “Thanks, really great idea. Is everything worked out now?” Shane scoffed some obscenities before storming out of the home.

Rick watched that interaction very closely.He already knew what was happening. Shane was cracking again.

Michonne couldn’t help but chuckle, exposing her ivory smile. “I’ll take my sword back,” Michonne said, her voice still hollow even with this change in expression.

Phillip’s eyes quicklylooked to the sword then back to Michonne. “You want it?” With one stiff fling Phillip tossed the sword straight up to the ceiling, which was seventeen feet high. “It’s all yours,” Phillip said before storming out on Shane’s heels.

“Well, there goes the neighborhood,” Deanna said.

 

***

Phillip entered the home and searched for Shane. The sun had now set, and the home was dark.As Phillip looked through the living room, he could hear Shane’s voice from the kitchen, “I deserve an Oscar for that performance.”

“It was convincing to Deanna, Michonne even. So we already got the leader on our side, who do we get to turn on him next?” Phillip asked, joining Shane in the kitchen.

Through the window, Shane watched Carl and Henry talk as they walked Buster up the streets of Alexandria.

“His family,” answered Shane ominously.

                                                                                                                                 


	14. The cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The official cover

[](https://postimage.org)   
[uploadimage](https://postimage.org/)


	16. Exit Alexandria / Alternative University Episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Shane, Philip, and Henry left Alexandria before Rick got back?
> 
> Shane Walsh managed to survive Rick's attack back in Georgia, but Rick is far from happy that his "old friend" arrived in Alexandria with guests. While Rick is off trying to deal with a massive hoard of walkers in a quarry a few miles north of Alexandria, Shane and his group escapes. However Shane and his group don't make it too far before than run into the fists of Negan.
> 
> Setting: This is an alternative universe. Phillip decided not to help Dr. Denise and immediately fled Alexandria before the Walkers made it to the gates. Shane, Henry and Phillip are inside the military vehicle the PYTHON and are heading west on a Virginia highway.

**Exit Alexandria**

 

 

Shane is sitting shotgun next to Phillip, and Henry is sitting in the first row of passenger seats. Henry is sitting in close proximity to the men, so he can be involved in the conversation.

 

“I’m not leaving my daughter, Phillip. I didn’t even get to _see_ her!” Shane’s voice was coarse and his saliva collided with the windshield.

“First off, say it _don’t_ spray,” Phillip replied with a rather monotone voice, his eyes were still focused on the road, only seeing Shane’s gross behavior in his peripheral. “Secondly—”

“I don’t need you to list shit for me, asshole!” Shane angrily retorted. Shane had no patience for any of Phillip’s cutesy, sarcastic bullshit.

“ _Secondly…_ ” Phillip resumed, “we’re not exactly leaving. Not just yet. We’re relocating to less hostile territory. That place was being attacked!”

Shane slammed his fist against the dashboard. “That’s _EXACTLY_ why I need to be there!” The crash of Shane’s fist sent a shock through Henry, but was mostly ignored by Phillip.

“We’re going thirty _eighteen miles out._ We’re going to come back, Shane,” Phillip said, taking his eyes off the road. “And I don’t think we have to worry about those people that attacked Alexandria. They didn’t even have guns. Most likely they were just scavengers who fucked up royally when they attacked that community.

“Shane, I know you want to see your daughter, and we will. But we can’t stay there. It would only be a matter of time until Rick tried something. And not just him, that entire community. We put roots down close to the Alexandria and then we wait.”

“Wait for what?” asked Henry.

“Just until tomorrow. We’re just regrouping, and we can’t regroup in enemy territory.”

Phillip understood how important Judith was to Shane, and they would return to Alexandria. But Phillip couldn’t sleep knowing Rick was in the building.

“We’re going back, Shane. I promised,” Phillip said, breaking his gaze on the road to lock eyes with his friend. “We’re not giving up. We’re not running. We’re regrouping, that all.”

“Whoa!” Henry exclaimed, and Phillip’s eyes refocused on the road.

The road was darkened by shadows of the looming night with only a crimson glow from the setting sun still visible. But blocking that one-way road was a gang of men. The men varied in age and race, but they all dressed in biker garb. They blocked the road, holding large automatic weaponry, waiting for their victims.

***

“Someone has a biker fetish,” Phillip said as he slowly hit his breaks, causing the Humvee to come to a halt.

Phillip counted roughly twenty bodies, all armed. Phillip’s knee-jerk reaction was to place the vehicle in reverse, but that prompted a hailstorm of bullets from the Saviors. The bullets caused numerous cracks in the windshield, but the reinforced glass stayed together.

“Go, go, go!” screamed Shane as Phillip attempted to pivot the large vehicle so it could escape the attack.

But the Saviors hopped on their bikes  and began to chase the PYTHON, now firing their handguns.

“Who the hell are _these_ people?” asked Shane.

“I don’t know, but I’m starting to think Virginia isn’t very safe,” Phillip stated. “We got to get these cum stains off our tail. Its only a matter of time before they shoot out something important.”

The Saviors had secretly tailed the PYTHON for miles and had already placed a large semi-trailer two miles away south on the one-way highway. Shane, Phillip and Henry were boxed in. Even though the PYTHON was a powerful vehicle, they neither had the time nor the resources to tow the large semi that was also armed with Saviors. They were waiting, brandishing their weapons, firing them gaily in the air.

“No more running, Phil,” Shane declared. “We’re going to have to have to fight our way out.”

Phillip inhaled slowly. “I know. I’m just trying to figure out the best way.”

“I guess talking to them is out of the question?” Henry nervously joked.

“I’ll ‘ _talk_ ’ to ‛em alright,” promised Shane, cracking  his M-16. “You ready for this?”

“This is not the Alamo,” Phillip chastised. “We do this the smart way.”

Phillip sharply pivoted the vehicle again, changing the direction, and began to plow right into the oncoming motorcycles. The sound of scraping metal and crushing bone echoed through the Virginia forest. Henry and Shane opened their windows and sprayed the oncoming Saviors with unforgiving bullets. The bullets hit their targets with precision as Phillip continued to plow through the Saviors with the Humvee.

The rubber tires skidded against the flesh of the Saviors, and Phillip continued to mercilessly crush them. By doubling back and smashing through the oncoming bikers, they recreated a hole in the wall that was originally created by the Saviors. They continued down the road at top speed. 

***

Phillip had just wanted to go eighteen miles out, but due to the intervention of the Saviors, his plan was remixed. The men decided to hang their hats at an old Victorian home, deeper within the city of Alexandria. There Phillip made an astute discovery.

“For what had been a rather populous city, there aren’t that many Walkers.”

“What the fuck do you mean, man? You can’t go two miles without running into one,” Shane retorted.

“Have you ever been to DC?” queried Phillip. Phillip knew Shane lacked a little culture. “This place should be littered with those things. Something is either drawing them away or killing them.”

***

Shane watched Phillip and Henry from afar. Henry gently tickled the guitar inside of the large living room of the abandoned Virginia farm home. The young men had lucked out when finding somewhere safe to hang their hats.

Shane smoked his hand-rolled cigarette; however, he kept one eye focused on a sliver of visibility through the living room window that was covered by curtains. The room was obscured mostly by shadows, but was meekly lit by a small lamp that was positioned between Henry and Phillip, who sat Indian style across from each other.

Phillip and Henry had a connection, very different from the connection Shane and Phillip shared. Henry, unlike Shane, didn’t lust for blood. Henry, though not afraid to take a life to save his friends, didn’t bask in it. Shane and Phillip did.

Henry cared about enjoying life, and even though the world may have ended, he wouldn’t let himself be faded out by the despotism of the world. He found a kindred spirit in Phillip. Underneath Phillip Marco’s blasé, rough exterior lay the spirit of an artist. Gentle, insecure, and creative.

“Phillip, let’s hear some tunes!” Henry said, playing a few cords on the guitar.

“Not exactly in the mood,” Phillip said. “Not feeling really musical.”

“You said it yourself. Music can help you through _any_ heartache,” Henry countered. “So are you full of shit or what?”

“He’s full of shit!” Shane playfully called out from the corner.

“He may have a point,” Phillip playfully layered.

“Come on, _man_. Give me a little of that **old** ‛90s flow,” Henry said, joining in the joke.

“ _Old_?” retorted Phillip. “I’m only twenty-eight, son!”

“Like I said: _old_.” Phillip playfully punched Henry; however, even with a playful punch, Henry still felt the seriousness of the blow. “Jeez, man! Watch that wrecking ball fist. Now I definitely deserve a song after that act of child abuse.”

“Agreed, but pass me the guitar. Looks like you only know how to play instruments if they’re inside of a computer program,” teased Phillip.

Phillip fixed his posture, taking in a small breath and closed his eyes.

“Ooh, he’s getting in the mood,” taunted Henry.

Phillip quickly opened his eyes. “You’re shitting on the moment.”

Henry apologized through a snorting laugh as Phillip re-centered himself. Music had always been a coping skill for Phillip. Even as a child when his father died during the 9/11 attacks, it was _music_ that helped the teenage Phillip through that time. But he was aware of the not-so-cheery nature of the night, so he decided on a song that embodied that.

 

  hadn’t been born just yet when that song had topped the charts.

Phillip continued, “Black hole sun, won’t ya come… And wash away the rain…”

The crispness of Phillip’s voice was so enthralling. Henry understood why Phillip had sang professionally. Henry, let the music sink into his skin. He could see the colors of the music blasting in beautiful shades of blue. Henry smiled, gently as Phillip continued to croon.

Shane jovially lit his lighter in tribute to the grunge hit “Black Hole Sun,” which was a personal favorite of his.

“Very appropriate, Phil,” Shane said under his breath, his smirk hidden by the shadows of the night.

In the darkness of night, outside of the abandoned Victorian home, Shane heard the rattling of cans. Before the men had entered, they’d put up a perimeter alarm around the home consisting of string and cans to warn them of additional unwelcomed guests.

Shane sucked his teeth at the sight of the male Walker whose face was rotted and burnt by the sun. Shane knew if one would show up making noise, it would attract others.

“Can’t we just have a good moment, just one?” Shane said aloud.

“Something’s going on out there,” Phillip said, abruptly stopping in the middle of the second verse.

“Hey, why did you stop?” Henry whined.

“Nothing. Just a Walker—one,” answered Shane as he looked out the window.

“I should probably pipe down,” said Phillip. “Last thing we need is _X Factor_ going on in here.”

“But man, I really liked that song!” exclaimed Henry. “Can’t you just finish?”

“Negative,” replied Phillip. “Last thing we need is more. One out there groaning won’t be a big deal, but we should probably keep quiet.”

“Look, I’ll make you a deal,” Henry bargained with a youthful smile. “I’ll take out the one Walker out there, and you finish the song. Then we can go back to being miserable.”

“Have you been paying attention to the lyrics, kid?” asked Shane. “Phillip is literally singing the number one song on someone’s suicide playlist.”

Henry shrugged. “It felt like how I feel inside. It felt like it was a song about me.”

Phillip smiled. He knew that feeling, that lust for music. That was their connection, the true love for music. The connection to the emotions behind it, from the snare of the drums to the strike of an electric guitar. Phillip and Henry understood the true beauty of music, and if they _had_ to live in a world were the dead walked, Phillip and Henry would enjoy the last fruits of humanity: music.

“Okay,” Phillip conceded. “No guns.”

Henry scoffed with a youthful cockiness. “I got this, Phil.”

Through the darkness, Shane and Phillip still could connect eyes. “Shane, go with him.”

“You heard the, man,” Shane said, folding his arms. “He’s got this.”

Hearing Shane call him a man swelled Henry’s heart with pride.

“BRB,” declared Henry, grabbing his flashlight and his machete.

He wore a camo hood and dark jeans. His curly dark hair caught a misty gust of the night air. However, the air was fouled by the scent of the Walker.

“Pee- _fucking_ -yew, bro,” Henry said as he approached the Walker.

With one crushing strike of his blade, he ended the reanimated man. Henry looked into his eyes, dead and gray due to the transformation. This man had probably been someone’s father. Someone had loved him. Someone had counted on him.

Death was the only absolute. It was the only thing that was promised, and Henry understood that at a _very_ young age. Whoever this man was didn’t matter anymore. He was dead.

But then thoughts of his father Stu and brother entered his mind. He smiled at thoughts of his sister Nancy, who he adored. Just because people died, it didn’t mean that who they were didn’t matter. It wasn’t how you died. It was how you lived. And you would live on in the souls of the people who loved you.

“Damn…” Henry said.

It had just dawned on him. The truth about life and death at fourteen. Through the darkness of the night, a screeching whistled rippled through the air. It wasn’t a bird. It wasn’t a horn. It was something _else._ The screech sounded like multiple whistles all blaring at once.

 _What the hell?_ Henry thought.

Two explosive shots rang out. Shane and Phillip’s ears perked, both men grabbing their handguns and darting outside as the whistle still echoed in the night.

“Henry!” the two men call out as they raced outside of the house.

The darkness of night was cut by the headlights of motorcycles, and in a moment, Shane and Phillip realized they were outnumbered and out gunned.

Shane pointed his gun aggressively at the line of Saviors, who held assault rifles. Phillip, however, dropped his machine pistol to the ground when he discovered Henry’s slumped body.

“No, no, no, no…” Phillip whimpered under his breath.

“Why don’t you join your pussy friend over there and drop the gun, douche bag?” one of the Saviors said to Shane.

“Please, Shane, it’s over,” Phillip said. “They killed Henry. Just give them what they want.”

“We only needed to kill _one_ of you. Let’s not make this a massacre,” the Savior replied. “You killed six of our guys back there. That man’s life is no better than the six of ours you took.”

“He was only fourteen!” Shane spat back angrily.

“I don’t give a shit. He looks like he’s forty-one,” the Savior said, cocking the hammer of his handgun and stepping forward intimidatingly towards Shane. The wall of Saviors were way too much for even Shane to challenge. “Put down you gun before I put you down.”

Shane craned back his wrist, removing the Savior from his crosshairs and dropping his gun. _Phillip better have a fucking plan_.

Phillip didn’t. This was his surrender. He wasn’t willing to fight anymore. He was ready to accept his death. He was ready for his fate.

“What do you want?” asked Phillip.

“Your shit, of course,” the lead Savior said. “All of it, including that little ride you got there. The Humvee, we want it.”

“It’s very complicated, the vehicle. It’s not a Barbie Jeep,” Phillip replied, rather sarcastically. He may be about to be murdered, but he was still a catty bitch.

“Barbie Jeep, that’s really funny.”

The lead Savior wasn’t amused. His dark flannel was muddied, and his jeans were ripped. He was one of Negan’s foot soldiers. It was a hard life, and he would be damned if was going to take shit from this guy.

“I bet I just need _one_ of you to drive this thing. So you tell me, how about I pop your little skinhead friend here?”

“ _NO!_ ” Phillip desperately exclaimed. “Nobody else. I’ll show you. I’ll show you how to drive it. It just has passcodes, that’s it. I’ll tell you everything. Just let us go.”

Shane had never heard such a level of desperation in Phillip’s voice. Now Shane was scared, too. _Is it going to end here?_ , he wondered.

“Good, boy,” the lead Savior said to Phillip. “Show me.” The Savior focused his attention on his other nine Saviors. “You six, come with me. Who knows what’s inside of this thing. You three, stick with him. He even farts you, swiss cheese his ass!”

As the two men approached the black tarp-covered PYTHON Humvee, Phillip’s thoughts were still with Henry. Phillip remembered when he, Shane and his late husband Austin met Henry and the Rockwells. Phillip was touched by the closeness of the family. Henry had been the last surviving member of his family.

Phillip was dulled by heartache. He cooperated with Saviors, casually explaining to them how to work the PYTHON. In the background, Phillip could hear Buster the dog barking angrily inside of the Victorian home, blocked by the door.

“That’s a loud fucking pooch,” the lead Savior said. “He keeps it up, he’s going to draw the ’dead ones’ to us. I would hate to have go all ’Old Yeller’ on your little mutt.”

They could kill Shane and Phillip, but he wouldn’t allow them to kill the last member of _his_ family, that spirit from Phillip’s past. Before the Walkers, before all the death, there was Buster, Phillip, Cameron and Austin. These Saviors threatened to kill off Phillip’s entire family in one night. They’d already taken one of his family members.

Out of the corner of his eye, Phillip could see the abandoned Smirnoff vodka bottle. It was Austin’s. His drinking had increased prior to his death. Phillip was in autopilot. He couldn’t control his limbs, hypnotized by his own surrender. But then God, or whoever, stepped in.

Two shots rang out outside of the PYTHON. The firing distracted the Savior who hovered over Phillip, and lead the Savior near the Humvee.

 _NOW!_ This was the opportunity that Phillip had been waiting for. Phillip quickly grabbed the vodka bottle and smashed it across the face the lead Savior. The alcohol blinded the leader with the sheer force of the blow. Using the same momentum, Phillip stabbed the second closest Savior in the throat with the jagged glass.

With a quick kick, Phillip opened the the passenger door and rolled out of the vehicle as the remaining Saviors began to fire into the vehicle. Bullets poured into the vehicle as Phillip ducked for cover. He noticed that due to all the firing, the bottom of the PYTHON began to smoke. The vehicle was going to blow. The only question was when.

Phillip only had one weapon left. A grenade had rolled out of the vehicle during the tussle. Phillip knew what he needed to do to survive. He had to give up a piece of his past and embrace this new future. Phillip quickly removed the pin and rolled the grenade under the vehicle. He then rolled quickly away from the vehicle, as the Saviors continued to fire bullets into the PYTHON.

A blast rang out, tearing through the brief stillness of the night . Phillip continued to duck, trying to avoid the flying metal pieces of the destroyed Humvee. When he turned around, he could see the Humvee, somewhat intact, smoldering with flames. Any Saviors near the vehicle were dead or close to it.

Phillip quickly ran over to Shane and Henry. Shane cradled the boy’s head. “I’m proud of you, Kid.” Near Henry’s hand lay Phillip’s discarded machine handgun.

“I f-f-f-f-f-figured y-y-you needed help,” Henry began to croak out, blood collecting at the corner of his mouth.

Phillip, a man of many words, was speechless. His heart melted into his bloodstream as he watched his friend deteriorate in front of him.

“S-s-s-sorry, Phil.”

Phillip joined Shane and held Henry’s hand. Phillip could sense Henry’s life fading from his body. Two holes in the boy’s chest still oozed with blood. Shane and Phillip could see the Walkers emerging from the darkness, lurching towards the area. Both Shane and Phillip looked at each other. Both knew what was going to happened next.

“I’m not scared. I’m not scared. I’m… I… I…” Henry’s blue eyes began to fade into the death.

Both Shane and Phillip winced in pain at the sight of the boy’s demise. The Walkers were approaching. They couldn’t mourn too long for their friend.

“We gotta go, Phillip.”

Shane quickly ran his hand against Henry’s face, closing the teen’s eyes. With his right hand, Shane dove his blade in the back of Henry’s head, ensuring he would not reanimate.

“We gotta go, Phil,” Shane said through shallow tears, rising to his feet. There were at least twenty Walkers, and they were only yards away.

“It’s not fair, Shane,” moaned Phillip, while Shane’s hand still held Henry’s face. “It’s not fair.” Phillip retrieved his handgun then placed a kiss on Henry’s forehead. “You’re my hero, kid. I’ll never forget you.”

Phillip joined Shane and darted inside the home. They couldn’t stay there. Between the explosion and the gunfire, they were sure more would be there. And even if more of the dead did not appear, they couldn’t stay at that house. Henry’s blood was spilled there.

***

 

_One Down, Two to Go_

 

Phillip was silent. He walked in a trance-like state, keeping a few feet ahead of Shane.

“Phil,” Shane called out, but Phillip continued his march, ignoring Shane’s words.

Phillip’s level of distress had reached an apex that Shane feared Phillip may not be able to return from. Buster followed closely behind Phillip, who held his sparsely packed knapsack as the two trekked through the forest.

“Phil,” Shane called again, but Phillip kept marching towards the North Star.

He “knew” it would lead them to “freedom.” The dewy air smelled crisp as storm clouds moved in. Shane knew they would need to find shelter soon. He didn’t have time for Phillip’s melodramatic behavior. He was hurting too, but he handled it better.

“ _Phillip!_ ” Shane exclaimed, finally grabbing Phillip’s left shoulder.

Phillip sharply spun and blocked the grab by using a quick  jujitsu wrist twist.

“Let’s keep our hands to ourselves,” Phillip replied, with a darkness in his voice that Shane had never heard before. Phillip’s once vibrant hazel eyes had flickered out into a vacant dimness. Phillip sharply released Shane from the grip. “Why are you even still here, Shane?”

Shane’s eyes  narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“There’s no PYTHON to hide in. There’s no shelter. No Austin, no Nancy, no Henry. So tell me, Mr. Walsh, why the hell are you still following me around?”

Shane saw what Phillip was trying to do. He was trying to push him away so he could vanish out into the wilderness to die just like Austin and his son Cameron. Shane wouldn’t allow Phillip to succumb to the same fate his family had. Shane refused to lose anyone else.

“Do you hear yourself, man?” Shane scoffed back. “Austin would be embarrassed of how much of a coward you are.”

“What did you say to me?” Phillip’s eyes intensified as he stepped closer to Shane’s bubble.

Shane wanted that very reaction. He needed that fire to return to Phillip. If it didn’t, they would surely die.

“Look at you, ready to give up because things are getting tough. Is that what you’re really about? Without all your toys, you’re nothing but a fucking candy ass.”

Phillip stepped closer, inches from Shane’s face. His flesh burned with anger and his blood pumped with ire, but his face remained soft and unbothered.

Shane could still read Phillip. He knew under that outwardly cool surface lay a hurricane within. Shane knew the buttons to push just as Phillip knew where Shane’s triggers were hidden. Shane figured that Phillip would probably punch him in the gut, and the two would fight. They did that often, “sparing.”

But Phillip did something Shane wasn’t expecting. Instead of engaging Shane like he usually would, after meeting Shane nose to nose, Phillip merely walked right past him. It was as if Shane was a vapor. Phillip gave him nothing more.

Phillip wasn’t in the mood. He wasn’t in the mood for anything. He just wanted to lay down and die, peacefully.

“What would Austin think?” Shane asked, still using Phillip’s husband’s ghost as a tool.

“He doesn’t want shit—he’s _dead_ ,” retorted Phillip, who continued to walk away from Shane, deeper into the forest. Phillip was done with the world. Unfortunately, the world wasn’t done with him.

Shane was still on his heels when he ran into a small cluster of Walkers.

“I’m not in the mood today,” declared Phillip.

But the Walkers lacked the cognitive skills to head the warning. They immediately pounced.

“I _SAID_ I’m not in the mood today!” Phillip said before unholstering Henry’s machete and slashing through the Walkers.

Shane caught up with Phillip and also began attacking the Walkers. Using his fireman’s axe, he smashed through the brains of the Walkers. The small cluster began to grow, and Shane decided it was time for the two of them to retreat.

“There are too many. We gotta go.”

“I got this!” Phillip said, still hacking away at the dead, not losing a drop of endurance.

If he was going down, he was going down fighting. Buster assisted Phillip by knocking down the Walkers and applying his brute strength to their throats. Phillip would finish them by using his boots to stomp in the heads. Shane had a more pragmatic approach. Fighting in the middle of the forest with the dead was a foolish move. Phillip kept slashing, smashing the faces of the lurching Walkers, as did Shane.

But then something unexpected happen. A sharp, cool, piercing sensation penetrated Phillip’s flesh. He gasped, quickly turning to see his assailant. It was a Walker, holding a knife.

“This can’t be right,” Phillip said before pulling himself away from the three-inch blade.

Blood gushed from the wound, but Phillip was still able to deliver a jaw-crushing kick to the Walker’s face.

Buster attacked the Walker, who stabbed Phillip, then the Walker did something Phillip never saw a Walker do before. It screamed: “NO!!!! FUCK!”

All bets were off when Walkers started using weapons and screaming obscenities. Phillip retrieved his two Berettas and began firing. Shane did not witness the stabbing, but he could hear the flying bullets from behind. He had all but disposed of his Walkers, but he could see that Phillip was struggling with his cluster. Even worst, Phillip was wounded.

There were too many to fight, and Phillip was injured. He saw no reason why all three of these souls needed to perish today. Buster could run faster than any Walker. He was trained to never let them surround him, and only fight them if Austin or Phillip was doing the same. This world had gotten darker ever since the dead began to walk again. But this dog may have a better chance than these wounded humans.

“Buster, GO AWAY! RUN! GO! GO AWAY!” demanded Phillip. “RUN! RUN!”

The dog hesitated, but he knew this command as well. It meant to retreat. Buster nervously abandoned his master, the dog’s training overriding his canine instincts.

Shane could barely keep up with what was going on and managed his own cluster of Walkers.

“Shit!” Shane hissed before switching the fire axe for his handgun and firing a chain of bullets at the emerging Walkers.

All the bodies fell, including Phillip’s. Shane quickly ran over to help his friend,

“Are you bit? Did one of those things get you!” Shane asked, his voice desperate and frantic.

“No, one of them stabbed me, I think?” Phillip replied dryly.

“What stabbed you? How? Just lay back and let me see.”

Phillip complied with Shane’s request, too drain to argue or to retort sarcastically. Phillip was all out of jokes and hope. Shane inspected the cut. It was quarter of an inch deep and bled heavily.

“It doesn’t look that bad. I gotta get it cleaned up,” declared Shane.

“How the hell would you know?” Phillip replied, doubting his medical competence.

“Austin didn’t just teach you a few things about stitching people up,” Shane said as he collected his first aid kit. “Contrary to popular belief, I was actually paying attention.”

“Why are you still here, Shane?” Phillip asked again, his voice dripped with gloom. “I’m wounded. We know what happens when people are wounded and they’re _out here_. They either die and kill you, or they slow you down and get you killed. Either way, death is the common denominator.”

“Can you do me a solid and pipe _fucking_ down. I get it. You’re hurt. So am I. That doesn’t give you permission to ‘ _opt out_.’”

Thoughts of Dr. Jenner at the CDC entered Shane’s mind. He understood the despair that could lead to one giving up and accepting one’s “fate” so to speak. But Shane wasn’t one to quit, and neither was Phillip.

“Here I am, cleaning your wound, and you are still bitching about me leaving. What kind of an asshole do you take me for, huh? I am going to patch your ungrateful, whiny, Yankee ass up, and then we’re going to find some shelter because I’m expecting some scattered showers.

“And I better not hear another fucking peep about me leaving you or you just dying. What the hell is your problem, man? That kid, with his last bit of life, saved _ours!_ You don’t just get to give up after someone does that for you. He gave his last for us to keep on going. He didn’t just lay down and die. Maybe you could learn something from him.”

Phillip surprised Shane again. He didn’t argue. He didn’t mope. He merely turned his head and conceded. Shane decided not to lay anymore pressure on Phillip. He was more sensitive than Shane had thought all along. Shane understood now why Austin was so protective of Phillip.

Phillip squirmed as Shane finished cleaning and dressing the wound, and then they were on their feet again.

***

 

“He fired those two shots. They both hit one guy,” Shane explained to Phillip, who he helped walk though the forest. Shane wrapped Phillip’s left arm around his shoulder and stabilized his waist as he limped though the night. “I took out the second guy with a knife to the neck.”

“Always go for the neck,” chuckled Phillip.

“I take it you were the one behind the terrorist attack back there?”

“Well, you know, I took an opportunity,” confessed Phillip.

“That kid, he saved our lives,” Shane reiterated. “I’m missing him already. At least I would have someone else to help me carry your sorry carcass.”

The two men shared a quick laugh. They both knew that Henry would be laughing with them, and probably was, wherever he was.

Death didn’t define you. It didn’t erase who you were or what you meant to people. Death was merely the closing chapter of a book. Most of the interesting stuff happened in the middle anyway.

As the men headed deeper into the forest, they could hear the groaning of Walkers.

“Shit, we’ve got company.”

The pocket of Walkers consisted of about twelve, more than enough to be lethal.

“Oh, bullocks,” moaned Phillip.

“Can you fight?” asked Shane.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I? Because they ain’t taking me.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Shane said, pumped.

Shane released Phillip from his arms and retrieved his gun. Phillip retrieved Henry’s machete. He may have been injured, but he had Henry’s fighting spirit with him.

“Now!” Shane said, preparing to charge.

A chain of rapid-firing silenced bullets popped, drawing Phillip and Shane’s attention. The Walkers were mowed down by two chains of bullets. The darkness obscured the faces of the two figures that had fired and saved their lives. Through the darkness, Buster ran over to Phillip.

“Whoa there, daddy got stabbed earlier. No jumping, please,” Phillip said, wincing as the dog attempted to jovially pounce him.

“Dogs don’t fire guns. Come on out!” Shane demanded, his gun still pointing at the figures covered by shadows.

Slowly the two shadows stepped forward directly into the lunar light. By the light of the the full moon, Carl and Enid’s faces became visible.

Shane’s face softens when he saw Carl. “Carl, you…you did this?”

Shane and Carl quickly embraced, crying together. Enid, Phillip and Buster watched from the sidelines. The moon’s intensity began to fade as the rising sun cracked the night’s sky. And a closure to the dark opened with the promise of hope.

“Let’s go home,” Carl says to Shane. “We need you.”

Carl noticed that Henry was missing and that Phillip was using his machete as a makeshift cane. He didn’t need to ask what happened. He already knew. Shane and Carl both took one of Phillip’s arms, and the five walked towards the breaking day horizon, towards Alexandria.

 

 

 


	17. Episode Three: The Resurgence / Part 4 "Touched"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexandria is still putting itself back together after the attack by the wolves, meanwhile Rick and Jessie's relationship intensifies.

****The Walking Dead: -6****  
Episode Three: The Resurgence  
Part 4 " Touched"  

The sky was navy with a crimson horizon from the setting sun. Fire flies danced in the sky, but the beauty of the evening was marred by the heavy stench of death that hung in the air.

“I’ve never seen so many,” confessed Carl while walking with Henry and Buster through the late dusk hours.

The teen boys could hear the growls and moans of the Walkers banging against the gates.

“Nope, at least, never this close up before,” said Henry.

Carl let out a hefty sight. “Enid got out. I wanted to go after her, but Ron said he’d tell my dad. I know I could get past them if I could just find something to distract them.”

“He’s probably right,” Henry interjected. “I mean, that Ron kid comes off as a real douche-rocket, but he’s not exactly wrong. If you go out there, you’re gonna die, Carl. Anyone would. Your friends are out there, right?”

Carl thought about his friends—his _family._ “Yeah, Abraham, Glenn, and Sasha.”

“Then she’s coming back. Everyone is coming back,” Henry said with a smile.

Carl couldn’t help but smile at Henry’s optimism. He wasn’t willing to give up on people he barely knew so neither would Carl. Carl liked that there was another kid just like him in Alexandria. Both of them had lost so much yet managed to keep themselves grounded.

***

“You really think you can turn that man’s son against him?” Phillip said, his face exposing his obvious skepticism. “Your grandiosity is mind boggling.”

“You’re one to talk,” countered Shane. “And, yes, I know I can.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” asked Phillip. “Got some MK-Ultra training I don’t know about?”

“I’m going to tell him,” declared Shane.

“You’re going to tell him what?” Phillip hoped Shane wasn’t thinking what he feared he was thinking.

“I’m going to tell him about Judith!”

“What the _fuck?_ ” exclaimed Phillip. “You can’t be serious. That’s the _antithesis_ of ‘good strategy,’ and furthermore, how would that help you?”

“Because Rick has been lying to him, Phil!” Shane shot back. “He’s been lying ever since that night in the forest. He just lies and lies and lies, and I’m fucking sick of it. He stole my daughter, my chance at happiness.”

“With who, Lori?” Phillip challenged. “Sorry, bro, she wasn’t that into you.”

Shane was still hot from the fight with Rick. He threw a quick jab to Phillip, who quickly intercepted it, using both his hands to twist Shane’s wrist.

“You’re really frisky today,” said Phillip. Phillip used his strength to propel Shane backwards. “I guess you no longer hurt from that bullet. But if you try to hit me in the face again, we’re going to have a very big issue.”

“I was aiming for your chest,” Shane replied.

“Speaking of which, let’s see yours,” Phillip said. “You were battling with Rick. I’m sure there are some broken stitches.”

Shane wondered the same thing. He lifted his shirt, revealing his solid form. Phillip immediately inspected the right pec and noticed the stitches had indeed broke, but Shane wasn’t really bleeding that bad.

“Well, isn’t that interesting.”

“What?” Shane replied dryly.

“Well, you broke all your stitches. You’re mildly bleeding, but you appear to be healing at a remarkable rate,” deduced Phillip.

“Good,” Shane conclude before pulling down his shirt. He noticed that Phillip was staring holes into him. “ _What_?”

“Are you the least bit curious to know how a semi-automatic round penetrated your chest half an inch, and you just manage to begin the healing process in days? So much so that you are fighting with your nemesis, talking shit, and just being an overall dick. Don’t you want to know how?”

“Duh, I’m awesome, that’s why,” Shane replied cockily.

He returned to the refrigerator. It was how he’d always ignored his mom and girlfriends when they started preaching to him. Much like how Phillip was right now. Shane was terribly annoyed by both Phillip and the lack of food.

“A chick that big, and she don’t even have a fucking Twinkie in the fridge? Are you kidding me?”

“The only reason why you aren’t dead is because of me,” said Phillip.

“I know, thanks, Phil. You plan on holding that over my head forever?”

“I’m not talking about the first time we met, hell, I’m not even referring to me bringing you here. The reason why you are healing so fast, and you’re so strong, is because of my blood.”

The bomb Phillip dropped got Shane’s attention.

“Huh, what the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Shane’s eyes now caught Phillip’s, his Georgia accent heavy and dripping with whiskey.

“Q-18. It’s a drug that has been in development since the ‛60s. America was trying to find ways to create the best soldiers. We were afraid of a potential Soviet nuclear attack, and what could be better than a soldier that could withstand certain levels of radiation?

“What they learned during the trials of Q-18 was that it made the subjects who took it physically stronger. Their bodies became stronger, and their immune system improved at a startling rate. Only problem was that it drove people crazy. Lots of suicides and euthanasias during the early trials.

“Around the 1980s Q-18 was perfected. Top-level soldiers took it. Politicians took a lower dose of Q-18 just to stay youthful and keep dementia at bay. Austin had his first dose of Q-18 at twenty-nine. He was grown as man. My first dose was at seven and every year since. I’ve missed my booster shot these last two years for obvious reasons.”

“Are you telling me because I took a blood transfusion from you that I got that shit in me now?” Shane’s voice was course.

Shane detested the idea of any performance-enhancing drugs, especially ones that could lead to suicide.

“It’s a running theory, but I would imagine it’s finite. Eventually your body will metabolize the Q-18 antigens, and you’ll be regular old Shane. So smile. You just keep lucking-up.”

Phillip noticed through the window that Deanna was marching with a box away from her home. He decided to make a quick visit.

“I’m heading out.”

“Where to?”

“Just going to spend time with the locals,” Phillip coyly replied.

Shane scoffed. “Aaron?”

“Interestingly enough, no. But he could be a viable plan B.”

***

Rick’s chest still burned with the heat from his battle with Shane. worst of all, Deanna is forcing this peace summit between Rick and Shane. Rick didn’t want anything to do with Shane Walsh, was that so much to ask for, he thought. Due to the current circumstances, that _was_ too pricey of a request. Rick decided to head to the tower to survey the area.

Phillip’s eyes were misty but didn’t dare shed at tear at the sight of the Army of walkers at the foot of the walls encompassing Alexandria. He had never before saw some many dead faces so up close, the sheer odor of the rotting flesh was enough to knock you down. But Phillip stood; he wouldn’t let these creatures shake him, even if their malodorous presentation was off-putting.

“Ever see this many?” a voice asked from behind, it was Rick, he joined Phillip in the watch tower. Phillip could hear someone walking up the stairs, but was surprised to see it was Rick of all people.

“In a coloring book, once,” Phillip lied. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I heard about what you can ‘ _handle_ ’,” Rick’s voice smooth. “Those people that attacked us, they say you helped fight them.”

Phillip faintly shrugs, “They were just as much of a threat to us. Bullets don’t have names on them.”

“They weren’t firing any bullets,” Rick corrected. Phillip pivoted his body, turning away from the sea of Walkers at the gates of Alexandria and finally met eyes with Rick. Rick’s voice had an energy that demanded your attention, in his iris a fire brewed. Phillip got the impression that Rick was used to taking charge of the conversation.

“It was a figure of speech,” Phillip added.

“They also _say_ that you helped our people in the infirmary,” Rick’s voice revealed some sense of remise

Shrugging again, minimizing his involvement, “I was guilted into helping by a psychiatrist. Have you ever said no to dying people?”

That statement exposed more than Phillip cared too, it revealed Phillip sense of morality. Moreover, it showed that Phillip, underneath his potty mouth, cared enough help complete strangers even after the stand-off the day before. Rick _may_ have been wrong about Phillip, but he wasn’t wrong at all about Shane.

“You helped these people, in light of that, I am ****_willing_**** to overlook what you did to Carl,” Rick said, his eyes looking away from Phillip. He was aching him to make nice with Phillip, but in light of their current dilemma, the less enemies the better.

Phillip scoffed, “that’s Rich.” Phillip had a completely different opinion of the events. “My friend is shot, you have no _real_ medic so I do my best to save him. Then you and your merry bunch wielding pistols and kitanas and all kinds of shit. Threatened my friends, threatened me – and _you_ are forgiving me? Ok, for the sake of peace: _apology accepted_.” Phillip remained defiant to a degree, like Rick he too didn’t have time for any more immediate threats.

Rick chuckled, he found Phillip’s refusal to concede any territory both petty and amusing. It made me appear more childish and less threatening. Which was exactly a part of Phillip’s plan. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Do I?” replied Phillip.

“Shane, he’s dangerous,” declared Rick, his tone was more of a warning and not a threat. “You have no ** ** _idea_ **** what he is capable of.”

“Really, now?” Phillip’s voice was patronizing, he didn’t appreciate that Rick pretended to know more than he did about Shane. “Is this the part where you manipulate me into hating Shane and perhaps _kill_ him for you?”

“You can do whatever you want with Shane, I’m just warning you. I know Shane, known im since we were kids.”

“This isn’t exactly new information,” replied Phillip.

“If you would shut the hell up long enough, you’d get some,” Rick found Phillip tremendously off putting. His smug attitude mirrored Shane in many ways; Rick was beginning to realize why they got along so well. “Shane and I worked as cops together for years; I knew the soul of that man. And even then I knew there was a hole in his heart, been that way since he was a boy.

“When this world fell apart he fell apart right along with it. Shane may be talented; he lacks a empathy that makes him a great warrior. But he is a ****disease****.”

Phillip had observed somewhat troubling behavior in the past from Shane, so he decided to give Rick a slice of credence. “Ok, I’m listening.”

“Whoever you think Shane is, just know he’s been playing you. The rage that’s in him, it runs deep into his soul.”

“Who isn’t filled with wrath and rage these days, especially considering our current situation? Rick, you’re not really giving me anything to work with. What I know about Shane is that he has my back, he may not be perfect, but he’s loyal.”

“I watched Shane kicked the shit out of some street kid because he had a couple of grams of crack cocaine. Do you wanna know why?”

Phillip was silent, merely frowning at Rick. “Because the 19 year old kid drove from Atlanta to our little town and Shane said he _corrupting_ it. He didn’t give him a ticket; he just beat the shit out of him. That’s the Shane I know.”

Phillip processed the information; Rick’s story was very plausible. This aggressive and hostile nature in Shane wasn’t exactly surprising to Phillip. Phillip however had a mind-fuck up his sleeve for Rick. “And surely you took your good friend down to Internal Affairs and reported his deviant behavior.” Phillip noticed that Rick didn’t chime in affirmatively, “That’s right, you didn’t say shit. You were a silent participant. And honestly, if that’s the best you’ve got, then you don’t have much of an argument. You issue with Shane is personal, I get that. The plan was to leave Alexandria but we had rethink that after you brought all those walkers here.”

Rick’s eyebrow rose with curiosity, the term “Walker” was one he coined. He found it fascinating that through Shane, Rick was able to influence even Phillip. “There would have been a hell of a lot more.”

“That’s what _they’re_ telling me,” Phillip replied, his arms folded across his chest defensively. Rick read his body language as he continued to evaluate Phillip’s threat level. “Let’s say I believe you…”

Offended, Rick hastily erases the space between himself Phillip and echo, “Believe that if you or Shane try anything to put these people at risk, I will end you.” Rick’s voice was low but burned like acid, but Phillip wasn’t scared.

“Put these people at risk? Nah, you’re doing that for me. Besides it was indeed _you_ who brought all those monsters here. And now it’s _you_ who is slowly destroying any chance of a temporary alliance because he’s still mad at his best friend.

“Rick you are like most lost leaders: Jim Jones, Fidel Castro, Donald Trump. No matter how people looked to you for guidance and support and see you as a pillar of righteousness, ****_you_**** can only look to ****_your_**** own ego. I’ll take your _information_ about Walsh into consideration.”

Phillip turned to exit the tower; he didn’t wish to have any more of a heart to heart with Rick Grimes. But Rick hoped to appeal to the sense of morality he knew existed in Phillip. “We have a lot of enemies at our gates. Their teeth and claws want our flesh. Mine, Shane, you, my son – _all of us_! Now we can sit around hating each other, but it want get us far. But if this is going to work you are going to have to trust me. I know this community and _I_ can keep this place safe. We have a common enemy; if we work together we can make it past this. Even I’m starting to see that there is ****_no way out_**** of this thing besides, together.

“I guess it’s true what they say: _The enemy of my enemy---”_

But before Rick could finish the proverb, Phillip interjected as he exit the tower, “---Can go _fuck_ himself, too.”

Phillip watched from the darkness as Deanna struggled with a Walker, but Rick killed the Walker for her before it could cause any damage.

Phillip let out a sarcastic, scoffing laugh. “What a stud.”

Phillip figured Deanna would be busy with that nonsense so he decided to sneak into her home. The window was the easiest target. Phillip used his agility and upper body strength to pull himself onto the roof. And with a panther’s grace, he crept into the room.

It was a youthful room, littered with posters of miscellaneous emo-ish bands. Phillip didn’t recognize any of their names. He figured they were so obscure only true music fans would know them. Phillip decided not to be quiet, loudly going through the books on the shelf and even playing with the strings of a guitar mounted on the wall.

Behind him Phillip heard a click of a pistol, but he’d heard the footsteps long before he heard the hammer of the gun. Phillip turned around to see an enraged Spencer pointing his gun.

“Nice to see you again. We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Get the hell out of my brother’s room.” Spencer’s voice was low and cold as he tried his best to be intimidating.

Phillip wasn’t buying it. With a dashing speed, Phillip kicked the gun from Spencer’s hand, sending it flying against the wall. Using the same speed and momentum, he kicked Spencer with his other foot, knocking him onto Aiden’s bed.

“I’m sick of you people pulling guns on me. It’s starting to be annoying.”

“Who the hell do you think you—”

But before Spencer could finish, his question was answered.

“I’m Phillip. We met earlier in the tower. I’m sure you remember. You were too chickenshit to help us fight. I was just making sure you were safe. I was concerned.”

“Like hell you were,” Spencer replied.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Phillip confessed, as he picked up the gun Spencer had just threatened him with. He checked the clip. It was loaded. “You know you could put an eye out with this thing.”

“Get out of my house, now,” demanded Spencer, rising from his late brother’s bed.

“You know what I’m here for, Spencer. And trust me, when we’re done I will gladly leave. We wouldn’t want _mother_ to catch us, now would we?”

“ _Excuse me!_ ” Spencer’s voice was nasally, especially for a man of his stature. It invoked a dark smirk on Phillip’s face. “Aaron’s house is three doors down.”

 _Wow, Aaron is the token gay of this community,_ thought Phillip. “Yeah, Aaron isn’t exactly my type. You’re not really either. Usually insecure, pansy-ass mama boys are a turn off, but surprisingly I’m willing to make an exception tonight.

“So let’s skip this little banter, Spencer. I can see you. No matter how you try to hide, I can see you now just like in the tower. I smell it on you, Spencer, _studium._ It sounds sexier in Latin, no? You are a thirty-something man still living with Mom and hiding in the closet. These could be your last days, Spencer. You’re really going to live them hiding like a rat?”

Spencer attempted to approach Phillip aggressively but was halted by a gun.

“Not too fast, Spencer. I’m really good with these, by the way. I _see_ you. I used to get Grindr messages from guys like you all the time. No face, just a torso with a profile reading: ‘Straight acting, masc 4 masc, no strings only’. Back in the good ole days, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole but...”

Phillip removed his shirt, revealing his extremely fit form. “Today I’m willing to be generous. How about it? But we better hurry. You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

Spencer scowled and walked past a shirtless Phillip, heading towards the living room door. The main entrance and exit to the home. Spencer reluctantly locked the deadbolt, ensuring their privacy.

***

Deanna had been shaken by the Walker. She sat with Rick for two hours, talking about Alexandria, talking about the future of the community. She wanted Rick to lead, confessing that she wasn’t strong enough to lead them.

But Rick disagreed. Deanna did have the strength to lead. She just had not tapped into her potential. He would teach her, and she would know the great things that she could do.

But Rick, more than anything wanted to save Jessie. He knew that just like Deanna, she could survive in this world. She had a strength deep in her as well. She just needed someone to draw it out.

Rick had decided to stop by Jessie’s home to make sure she was okay. She stood there, tight jeans, mauve flannel, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was simple yet sexy. Even after everything, Rick could not conceal his lust.

It had been over two years since Rick had sex, left with himself as his only company. Rick couldn’t ignore the heat between them whenever he was in her presence.

“How are your boys?” asked Rick, his eyes scanning Jessie.

“Sam is…” She couldn’t even think of the right word, _broken_ came to mind. “He’s just really sensitive. He’s been hiding in his room the entire time.”

“That may be the best thing for him, may save his life,” Rick added. Hiding sometimes was the best way to survive.

“We can’t hide from it anymore, Rick, not if we want to live.” Jessie had grown. She was ready to become who she need to be. “Ron was with Carl, Enid and that new kid. And who is that rude man that was at your house earlier?”

Rick chuckled. “You’re probably talking about Shane.”

“He’s a horse’s ass,” declared Jessie.

Rick couldn’t help but laugh at Jessie’s fighting spirit. “Well, it looks like me and you have even more in common.”

Rick affectionately reached out for Jessie’s left hand, caressing it and staring deep into her eyes. Jessie liked the juvenile approach Rick had to romance. It was oddly refreshing.

Rick reached out and touched Jessie’s face, running his fingers down her golden hair. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. She savored Rick’s taste.

When he pulled away, Rick could see Shane behind Jessie. But it wasn’t the “real” Shane. This Shane was an apparition. He dressed like Shane had back when they worked the beat as cops. Shane’s hair was long and flamboyant, his uniform fitting close to his body.

The apparition folded his arms and smiled wickedly at Rick. _Come on, Rick, we’re not in the eighth grade no more. She does just want you to hold her hand._

Rick tried to ignore Shane’s voice, but it boomed in his ears, shaking his sanity, a living-ghost only visible to Rick.

 _Come on, boy, she’s just begging for it_.

Rick slammed his face against Jessie’s, knocking her backwards onto the coach. He mounted her like a lion and pelted her peaches and cream skin with white hot kisses.

 _Come on, Rick, man. Don’t you see she wants it_? Shane’s voice was patronizing, forcing Rick to escalate.

Jessie causally turned off the light in the living room. The switch was merely inches from her head. She allowed Rick to ravish her body, running his fingers aggressively against her skin. The roughness excited Jessie. She wanted him to take her.

Rick placed warm kisses on Jessie’s tummy as he unbuttoned her jeans. He went lower and lower. The anticipation heated Jessie, and just like butter pecan ice cream, she melted into Rick’s mouth.

***

From the living room window across the street, Michonne watched the lights turn off in Jessie’s house. She’d already seen Rick kiss Jessie. She knew what usually happened after that. Michonne had kept her feelings for Rick deep inside, and now she feared she had waited too long.


	18. Ep 4, Part 1 "Waiting To Die"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer is a buzz kill......

****The Walking Dead: -6****  
Episode Four: ****... And Then There Were Three****  
Part 1: "Waiting to Die"

 

 

Spencer used his index finger to move his curtains back slightly so he could watch his mother from his room. His room was sparsely lit by a flickering candle, Spencer cut his eyes at his mother as he watched her converse with Maggie. Spencer learned in this grave time, his mother fund more comfort in strangers than him.

It had always been this way since they were displaced to Alexandria, Spencer would do his best to prove himself to his mother. He wanted to show her that _he_ could lead Alexandria, that she did not have to seek out the orphans of the apocalypse to keep Alexandria safe. But Spencer couldn’t recall a time when his parents had faith in him; they put more esteem in his younger brother, Aiden.

Deanna was doing it again, putting her faith in others and ignoring her own flesh and blood. But she wasn’t the only one ignoring Spencer. Spencer’s eyes panned over to a dressing Phillip, the soldier was rushing and seemed completely disconnected from Spencer. This was a stark contrast to their earlier tryst. Moments earlier, Phillip was very much engaged with Spencer. Phillip pelted Spencer’s tight form with passionate white hot kisses as the two explored each other. But now, Spencer was all but translucent to Phillip.

Spencer noticed this, moreover, it offended him. Internally Spencer was conflicted, he spent his entire life in the closet, denying his true self. Spencer would rarely ever sleep with the same man twice and kept his same-sex flings very infrequent and anonymous. Spencer would often ignore his gay sexual partners if he saw them in public in fear of being outed. But the tables had turned, now he was being ignored.

Everyone was ignoring him, he didn’t get it. There was a time Spencer was the center of everyone’s attention. Spencer also was blessed with a tall athletic body and handsome face. He was the first son to a wealthy architect and a senator, so life was honey and milk anyway. All his life, Spencer Monroe lived a charmed life where doors flew open with resistance.

Then the world ended.

Shallow things no longer mattered after the apocalypse, it didn’t matter how rich you were, how beautiful you were. Anyone could die by the teeth of a Walker and they too would turn, if there was anything _left_ to turn. Spencer went from the top of the food chain to the very bottom, not only was he prey to Walkers, but he was a weak survivor.

Spencer relied heavily on his parents and his younger brother during this time. Aiden, though four years younger had ROTC training, he even taught Spencer how to shoot. The early days of Alexandria were treacherous times, before there were walls it was Spencer and Aiden who had to keep the dead at bay. But unlike Aiden, Spencer lacked the courage to face the walkers, he just wanted to hide.

This personality flaw existed in Spencer long before the dead began to walk, it only became more prominent now. Spencer is more clingy, needing a stronger personality to soldier on because he simply doesn’t have the guts.

“Where the fuck are my---oh there they are,” Phillip said to himself has he grabbed his olive colored socks.

“You know, I don’t think she’s coming back, at least not now,” said Spencer, as he watched Deanna entered Maggie’s home. She, Glenn, Eugene, Rosita and Abraham all shared a row home just up the street from Spencer. “She’s probably going to discuss more expansion plans with Maggie.”

“Yeah, I don’t really _care_ , but thanks for sharing,” Phillip said as he buckled his pants giving a small wink to Spencer. “I gotta jet, Shane and Henry will send a search the party…” then it hit Phillip like a right hand from Mike Tyson, Nancy and Austin were gone, it was only three of them left of their group of seven. “… well, I guess they _are_ the search party, now, huh?”

“There were more of you?” asked Spencer, but he already knew the answer. Phillips’ eyes disconnected, refocusing on the floor. “My mom mentioned something about you had a ‘husband’, I thought I heard that wrong.”

“We were married in Boston in 2009 it was legal there and we Resided primarily in New York that recognized our union as a legal marriage. Austin and I…” Phillip stopped himself as small smile emerged on his lips when he recounted his life with Austin. Spencer noticed Phillip’s face soften, he became less mechanical. Phillip caught himself, he felt himself losing grip of the situation. “Nevermind.”

“No, I want to know about you,” confessed Spencer.

“All of a sudden?”

“Ok I was a jerk earlier, but you broke in, all things considered, I think I handled things rather well,” Spencer was still undressed, his body draped loosely with a chestnut Egyptian cotton sheet. His legs were open wide, but his manhood was hidden by the sheet. He was beckoning Phillip for a second round.

“I’m leaving now,” Phillip said with a small chuckle before pivoting towards the exit.

“You don’t have anywhere you _need_ to be. Can’t we just sit and talk?”

’hillip's left eyebrow rose with curiosity, “About what: our feelings?”

“No smart-ass,” Spencer playfully retorted. “I guess just get to know each other. I’ve never done this.”

“Oh sure you have,” Phillip dismissed.

“I’ve done the _act_ but I never had to see the person again and for the record, you’re like my eleventh guy,” Spencer’s voice was defensive.

“Number eleven, what a coveted title,” Phillip replies dryly before grabbing the small wooden chair that was hidden in the corner of Spencer’s room. Phillip brings the chair to the center of the room before sitting before Spencer. Merely yards away, Spencer could still sense a distance between himself and Phillip. “Ok, let’s talk.”

Spencer read Phillip’s body language, he sat relaxed in the chair, his hazel eyes bright with excitement. But Spencer could sense a hostile heat from Phillip, “Why are you so pissy?”

“There is an army of Crypt Keepers surrounding me, how else am I supposed to be?” retorted Phillip.

“Even before then, do you just walk around with a chip on your shoulders all day?” drilled Spencer.

“I haven’t had the best 72-hours,” confessed Phillip.

“You lost people,” layered Spencer.

“Yeah, we’ve lost a lot,” Phillip did not want to reveal any weaknesses to Spencer. “I suspect everyone has. I’m not much for dwelling on the past.”

“I never met a gay couple that were married. My cousin, he’s gay, he brought his boyfriend to Thanksgiving once but they weren’t married. Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that right around the time they try to legalize gay marriage the world ends?” Spencer had a boyish smirk on his face, Phillip reflected the gesture.

“Gay marriage has been legal in Massachusetts since 2004, _dick-wad._ ” The two men share a brief chuckle, breaking much of the tension build in the room. Phillip’s eyes focused his eyes on his wedding band. It was a thick white gold band with aquamarine and diamond chips. Engraved in tangled cursive were the words: _“Amor sempiternus_ ”.

 _“_ You had a son, too, right?” Spencer could tell he hit a nerve because Phillip’s posture immediately shifted in his chair. “Wow, you had a whole family. I never really had anything like that. I mean I had girlfriends but there was nobody when this happened. It’s good that you had somebody during---…”

“We’re getting _way_ too personal,” Phillip interjected quickly. “I don’t want to talk about any of that.” The final moments on the Honeycutt Estate flashed in Phillip’s mind, he remembered all the horrors of the day. A flood of emotions rocked him, but Phillip remained composed. He did learn something about Spencer tonight, he’s a buzz kill.

“I’m sorry, it as insensitive to bring up that in light of everything,” confessed Spencer, even he realized how inappropriate his lining of questioning was. “This just feels weird and not just because of the _gay_ part. It’s just being around new people….I don’t really have a lot of friends here.”

“Why not? You’re the leader’s son, wouldn’t the town’s people naturally kiss your ass?”

Spencer chuckled at that notice, “They’re respectful, maybe one day they’ll see me like they see my mom. Hopefully, this will be over before I have to lead.”

’hillip's curiosity peaked, Spencer had revealed a detail. Spencer said, “Hopefully this will be over ****_before I have to lead_**** ” implying that he would need to lead soon. Why? Phillip wondered. “You think that _this_ will be over soon? You still believe the government is going to come and save everybody.”

“Why not?” shrugged Spencer. “Stranger things have happened. It hasn’t even been three years yet. They could be already fixing things in somewhere in some underground lab in Colorado. In one of these days, helicopters are going to land inside of Alexandria and soldiers are going to rescue us.”

“Cute fantasy,” Phillip dismissed. “But I wouldn’t wait on it.

“I’m not waiting on anything,” countered Spencer, his voice was somewhat defensive.

Spencer was waiting, he was waiting to die –just like everyone else in Alexandria. His faux-optimism wasn’t believable and Phillip saw through the sheer illusion. “Aren’t you?” asked Phillip.

Spencer felt strangely at ease with Phillip, he felt like he could open up to Phillip. “When the world ended--- after everything started ---my dad, Aiden, and I flew from Ohio to D.C. to be with my mom. And luckily we got resettled here; you’ve probably noticed the age median here is about 54 so that has affected my social life a little. You’re the first person in a while, the first guy in a _long_ while.”

“You’re talking like you’ve _claimed_ me or something. All we did was fuck, it’s not like we’re going steady or anything,” replied Phillip, he wanted to change the tone of the conversation. Spencer’s topic of discussion was too personal for the soldier. The best way he knew to throw a guy like Spencer of was crashness and vulgarity. Phillip was playing a mind game with Spencer but had no idea why. To what end? Phillip wasn’t sure, most likely this mental game of chess was just for his entertainment.

Spencer was somewhat timid but he wasn’t stupid, he could see through Phillip’s game. “What are we going to do – about those monsters out there? You don’t think Rick’s people are coming back, do you?”

“If they do, they’re probably going to want to eat us,” Phillip noticed through the window behind Spencer, Henry and Carl walking Buster. He figured it was getting late and he’s got a familiar as he needed to be with Spencer. “I should probably go, now.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Spencer’s voice was meek, his eyes traveled to the floor. He didn’t know what to say, he knew he wanted Phillip to stay longer but he couldn’t find a way to make him. Spencer hadn’t had anything remotely romantic transpire in over three years. Since the apocalypse, the once independent Spencer had grown codependent. He heavily relied on his brother Aiden, mother Deanna, and father Reg for emotion support. Two of the key members of his support network was gone.

“This was… this was nice, it wasn’t nearly as shallow as I thought it was going to be. As great as this was, we don’t want anyone to catch us right?” asked Phillip. Spencer nodded, as Phillip rose from his seat Spencer’s body perked up. “I should probably take the window, don’t want anyone to see me right?”

“That’s probably the best thing to do,” replied Spencer. As Phillip passed the flicker candle he extinguished the flame with his right thumb and index. Spencer found that strangely erotic, it was coupled by Phillips next move. To get to the window behind Spencer’s bed, like a puma, Phillip stealthy crawled across the bed. Phillip slither through Spencer’s open legs as the men stared deep into each other’s eyes.

Phillip softly pressed his robust pink lips against Spencer’s, Spencer liquefied in the heat of the embrace. Before the apocalypse, Spencer had rules of engagement for his same-sex tryst. He would never allow men to kiss his lips; his internalized homophobia wouldn’t allow it. During their encounter earlier, Phillip never kissed Spencer on the mouth, mainly because he didn’t want to. He wanted their encounter to be empty and anonymous, but Spencer managed to plant a small seed of light in Phillip’s sullen soul.

Phillip slowly pulled away from the kiss and said, “By the way, you should probably leave this window open, it smells like two guys just fucked in here.” The two men broke into a snorting chuckle, their foreheads touching intimately. Phillip gracely slid through the window and vanished into the night.

Spencer lay in his bed, eyes shut but wide awake, thoughts of Phillip still sparkling in his mind. His scruffy face beamed brightly as he reminisced privately over the night’s event. Spencer believed that he may have found something special.

Phillip however already lost the sparkle he shared with Spencer, he was back to feeling hallow. In the distance, Phillip could hear the banging of the walkers against the walls of Alexandria. Phillip had collapsed unto himself and nothing can fill this cavernous hole in his heart.

Henry, Carl and Buster met Phillip in the middle of the streets of Alexandria, the night had drug on and most of the people were barricaded in their homes. Only the truly brave ones walked the streets. “Kiddo it’s late, what are you doing out still?”

“Just walking Buster one last time, how are you, you look a little frazzled,” Henry noticed that Phillip looked a little off.

Phillip immediately became subconscious about his appearance, fearing that his tryst will be revealed. “Nothing, I’m fine. Don’t wait up, I’m probably going to camp out in the PYTHON.”

“IS that a good idea?” asked Henry. “Shouldn’t we stay together?”

“Don’t worry, I’m a big boy. Besides, I have sensitive hearing, if anyone tries to sneak up on us I’ll know. Don’t stay out too late.” Phillip headed back to the rowhome formerly own by Erwin but now occupied by The Three. Phillip started to enter the home but froze when he began to turn the doorknob. There was a rumble in his belly, but not hunger, something else made is insides churn. Instead of checking in with Shane, Phillip decided to turn around in climb inside of the large humvee that sat outside of the home.

Shane’s blood still coated the passenger’s seat, that was the first thing Phillip noticed. _Phillip, what are you doing?!_ Shane’s voice echoed in Phillip’s memory. He remembers the moments in the saw mill when Shane was shot by bikers. Phillip quickly banishes those memories almost as quickly as they manifested.

Luckily Phillip found a discarded bottle of vodka that formerly belonged to Austin. The bottle was half-way empty, just like Phillip viewed the world. He retrieves the bottle and heads to the back of the humvee where he left all of Austin’s belongings. He unzip the navy colored duffle bag and removes Austin dark leather jacket. Phillip removes his top and slides on the leather jacket, he wanted to feel the fabric against his skin. He hopes to resurrect the essence of Austin.

He uncaps the vodka and takes a swig, hoping that it would help dull his sadness. He removes his smartphone and search for some mood music, he selects “suicidal thoughts” by Notorious BIG. As the Errie melody filled the vehicle Phillip took another swig and closed his eyes and tried his best not to take his own life.

___

Shane watched Henry sleep from across the living room, the sun had begun to rise and Shane had been up two hours already. The two had slept in cycles throughout the night, Shane was still suspicious of Rick and his followers. With the budding morning sun illuminating the streets, Shane figured that it was safe enough for him to take a walk. He decided to take the Neopolitan Mastiff, Buster for a walk as well.

When Shane exited the home he was greeted with the odor of rotting flesh and morning dew, “This is what hell must smell like,” Shane said allowed. He decided to check on Phillip; usually he would be up at this hour. When Shane made it to the humvee he could see a passed out Phillip, shirtless with a leather jacket and a bottle of booze. “Who the hell does he think he is, David Lee Roth?”

 

Shane astutely noticed that Phillip wasn’t as punctual as he usually was, the Phillip Shane knew would have heard Shane coming seconds before he reached the window. Shane quickly puts the code into the door panel and open the large suicide lift door and sunlight poured into the vehicle. Phillip wasn’t bothered by the light or even by Shane banging on the vehicle’s roof.

“Go get ‘em, boy,” Shane says to buster who runs over to his sleeping master and shower him with a loving kiss.

“Uuuuuhhhhh,” moaned Phillip.

“Rise and shine, little Richard. Did you drink that entire thing by yourself?” Shane asked, noticing the Smirnoff bottle that lay at Phillip’s feet.

“I had help,” groaned Phillip. “What time is it?”

“It’s the end of the world, Marco. It doesn’t matter what time it is anymore. You’ve got ten minutes.”

“I also have two feet that will gladly collide with your ass if you don’t leave and take the sun with you,” said Phillip attempting to shield his face from both the light and the dog’s kisses.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” Shane said dismissively, leaving the dog with Phillip and closing the door. Shane was proud of himself, there was a shot of confidence that raced through his veins. A small smile appeared on his face as he laid his body against the Humvee.

In his left peripheral vision, Shane could see an approaching figure, this jolted him to action. The quickness of his movements startled the blonde girl, “Whoa, sorry you snuck up on me,” confessed Shane.

Holly smiles, “I’m sorry, I just saw you out here and I figured I should say good morning to you. You did sort of save my life.”

Shane gives a light shrug, “You can return the favor one day. _Holly,_ right?”

“And you’re Shane,” replied the petite blonde. “They say you’re a trouble maker, is that true?”

“Depends on who ‘ _they_ ’ are,” said Shane. “Who am I kidding, yeah I’m a walking shit-show. What of it?” Shane’s voice was flirty, he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re a hero,” replied Holly.

“I’ve been called that before, but I’m just a guy,” confessed Shane, downplaying his valor.

“You’re a hell of a guy,” the sparkling newborn sun, sparkling off her blonde hair. Shane was drawn to the softness of her nude-pink lips and her peaches and cream skin. her short blonde pixie cut and golden small hoop earring helps shape her beautiful face. Everything about Holly, from her beauty to outward toughness reminded him of Nancy.

The uncanny resemblance started him initially, but Shane was immediately drawn to Holly. When Shane looked into Holly’s crystal blue eyes, the horror of Nancy’s murder is all but erased. It was as if God brought Nancy back to Shane.

The two talk for twenty minutes, but the two never noticed. Holly’s hardness soften in the presence of Shane’s outward masculinity. The apocalypse had forced holly to harden like a tundra but Shane southern drawl, slick tongue, was all it took to melt her.

Phillip knew he had a hangover and now he was hallucinating again. Phillip recognized that his sanity was slipping. Q15, the drug used to enhance Phillip physically did have horrible side effects on one’s mental health. Compounded on Phillips recent tragedies, he expected his mind would continue to slip.

But Phillip wondered if he was hallucinating why the hell was Shane communicating with his hallucination? _“Nancy?_ ” Phillip said slowly approaching the scene, rubbing his eyes bewildered.

“ _Holly_ ,” Shane corrected Phillip, there was a rather sternness in his eyes that Phillip picked up. “She’s one of Alexandria’s shooters. They say she’s a bit of a bad ass”

Holly’s face beamed with pride, “I do what I can to keep the place safe. Me, Spencer, Bob, Sebastian, it’s small group of us but we do our best to keep those things out.”

Phillip was still flabbergasted by how much Holly resembled Nancy, the only thing he could croak out was, “What in the hell?”

Shane’s eyes tighten angrily, “Sorry, about that Holly. I would like to say he’s usually not this rude, but unfortunately, this is how Phillip is.”

“I’m usually not this hung-over, in all fairness,” protested Phillip.

“Well, I know the feeling, if I had something to drown my sorrows last night I would be just as shit-faced. Bad-ass you getting up this early.”

“Early? How early, exactly?” drilled Phillip.

“Well, it’s about 7 AM,” replied Holly.

Phillip cuts his eyes at Shane and mutely says, “You son of a bitch.” Holly noticed the exchange and her eyebrows rose with curiosity, “Well it’s my turn to take watch on the wall. Nice seeing you again, Shane. And Phillip, it was nice meeting you.”

“No, it wasn’t nice, don’t lie to him, he’s repugnant,” replied Shane, only half-way joking.

When Holly was no longer invisible Phillip asks Shane as politely as he could, “What in the fuck are you doing?”

“Excuse me?” Shane replies confrontationally.

“She looks _just_ like Nancy. What if Henry just moseyed out here and saw you too tonguing each other.” Phillip’s voice was course but he kept his tone low, he didn’t want anyone to overhear their argument.

Shane replied in the same low but aggressive tone, “This is the second time I have even seen this girl, what in the hell are you talking about. And more importantly: mind… your god damn business, Phil.”

“I am, you and Henry _are_ my business. If you want to have you weird relationship with Nancy 2.0, be my guest. But if that kid catches you frolicking with some broad who looks like his sister after what he went through---me and you will have a problem.”

Shane erased the small space between himself and Phillip, entering his bubble, he let out a scoffing chuckle, “Now don’t go tossing around threats.”

“You know me Shane; you know I will hurt you if you hurt him. You want to have fun, do it discretely like people with class.”

“Shut your mouth, Phillip. You’re drunk and you’re starting to piss me off.”

“Yes, I _am_ still drunk. You woke me up at an ungodly fucking hour… and wait a minute, that ain’t Rick’s house,” Phillip said. In his peripheral vision, Phillip noticed Rick exiting Jesse’s home.”

“What about rick?” asked Shane.

“Who leaves someone’s house at 7am: a person who just had a booty call.”

“You damn right it is,” Shane thought. His chest stuck out proudly as he marched over to Rick who was around the corner from where Shane and Phillip stood.

As Shane approached Rick grasped his revolver and Shane stopped in his tracks. Shane was armed but decided to raise his hands up above his head. “Hands up, don’t shoot, Rick.”

“The hell do you want, Shane,” growled Rick.

“Nothing, brother.”

“---I _ain’t your_ brother, Shane,” rick quickly corrected.

“I’m just here to congratulate you rick,” replied Shane, by this time both Buster and Phillip caught up with Shane. Rick’s body tensed when he saw the size of Buster let alone Phillip being in the mix, he felt like he was being set up.

Rick, with his right hand rested on his revolver handle approached Phillip, Buster, and Shane with a small strut. It is true what they say about animals, they can sense evil. Buster, who wasn’t on his leech immediately approached rick and greeted him friendly.

“Hey, this ass hole pulled a gun on us, why are you being nice to him?” Phillip honestly offended by the lack of loyalty.

“I ain’t pulling a gun on _him_ ,” replied Rick, rubbing the surprisingly friendly behemoth of a dog.

“Speaking of ‘ _pulling out the gun’_ ,” prefaced Shane, ”Did you get your dick wet last night, rick?” Shane scanned the expression the tightness of Rick’s face at the violation of that question. After everything Shane did with his wife, Lori, how dare he?

“Shut your god damn mouth, Shane. Before I make you eat your teeth!” Rick’s voice echoed through the streets of Alexandria, breaking the silence of the morning.

“Rick,” a tiny female voice said in the distance. The men turn to see Jessie, covered in a cotton bathrobe, “Rick, what’s going on?”

“Wooo-hooo, Rick, you had a taste of that peach?” Shane’s voice was low enough for only the men to hear, but Rick still growled angrily.

“I told you to watch your mouth!” hissed Rick, approaching Shane angrily but was greeted by a now barking Buster. Before the dog could do any damage Phillip quickly grabbed the large dog buy his collar and snapped on his chained leech.

The barking was a like a banging gong in Phillip’s ears, he was not ready for this morning. “Ok, now you’ve got him started. Can you two resist the urge of killing each other until at least 12, can we do that?”

Rick’s eyes remained locked with Shane as the rage in his chest began to dissipate. “I should go check on _my_ daughter.”

Shane gritted his teeth and with those simple words he took over the flow of the conversation. He got Shane off his game with just one simple sentence. Shane felt robbed, rick not only stole Lori away he also robbed him of the first years of his daughter’s life. For that he would pay, “You just make sure you keep my little girl taken care of. Doesn’t she look a little like my mom, Rick?”

Rick scoffed as he walked pass, “No, she looks like me and Lori.”

***

_Hours later_

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” said Carl as he threw the football towards Henry, which he caught with ease.

“That girl, Enid. Yeah, she’s cute. Was she a good kisser?” Henry asked as he tossed the ball back to Carl.

“What?” Carl asked, dumbfounded by the question, ignoring the ball as it slammed against the neighbor’s door. “Don’t worry, I got it.” Carl quickly raced over and grabbed the ball, “It’s no big deal the people who used to live there aren’t really---alive anymore.”

Henry dryly shrugs, “Stop hogging the ball and stop dodging the question. I mean she looks like she has soft lips, really pretty skin, cute little freckles. She had to be a good kisser.”

“We’ve never kissed, I just got here a few weeks ago,” Carl replied pelting the football towards Henry.

“ ** ** _Cape Diem_**** , Bro!” Henry shouted as he jumped catching the football.

“What?!” replied. “What does that mean?”

“Seize the day: you see a girl you like, tell her. You see a stray beer, you swipe it. Live like that there’s no tomorrow, chances are there won’t be.”

Carl was taken aback by Henry’s darkness, but understood the message behind it. It was true, tomorrow truly wasn’t promised. He understood that when he had to fire that bullet in Lori’s brain. He understood how deep that abyss went and living like tomorrow wasn’t promised was the best idea.

“My dad doesn’t want me to do anything dangerous but--- me and Enid used to sneak out in the woods. We used to hide in a hallowed out tree, we could hear them moaning behind us. If we breathed too loud they could have killed us. But they just walked by --- it was ---it was…” Carl struggled the find the words.

“It was the _tits!_ ” Henry said before tossing the ball.

Carl caught the ball smiling, “I guess it was. What do you do that dangerous, you talk a good game but I bet you probably scared of them – the walkers?”

Henry scoffs, “are you serious? No way, I got way scarier things after me. Ever heard of Leukemia?”

There wasn’t a Webster’s definition for the word “leukemia” in Carl’s mind. But in his 14 years of life, he knew it wasn’t anything good. “What’s that?”

Henry shrugged, “It’s when your blood’s fucked up. It hasn’t killed me or anything – yet.”

Carl’s heart plummeted to his stomach, though he was still foggy to the details Carl knew leukemia was fatal. Henry all but confirmed this. Stuck in the moment, unsure what he could do to help his friend Carl asks, “What can I do to help.”

Henry was diagnosed at 10 and after years without his medication and or any follow-up, he was still alive. Recently, Henry had suffered from nose bleeds and fatigue. Henry was ready to die since he was 12, long before the monsters appeared. There was nothing anyone could do for him, “Just throw the ball Carl.”

 


	19. Episode Four: ... And Then There Were Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl and Henry connected over their shared darkness.

**The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode Four: **... And Then There Were Three**  
Part 2: "Cancer"  
  


**Henry's POV**

 

"It was more of us, a lot more," confessed Carl. The two teens sat on the velvet grass and looked up at the sky. Both were looking for different things in the crystal skies, Carl searched for a sign from Enid, perhaps a smoke signal. Anything to tell him she was alright, Carl's heart ached for Enid and he didn't even know it. He just felt a tightness in his chest, an urge in his belly that hurt all over when thoughts of Enid emerged.

Henry was looking for a sign as well, he was focused on what to do next. Even if they found a way out of Alexandria, where would they go? Back to Phillip's place? Henry hoped not, too many bad things happened there. He could never imagine living there again.

"Did you know any of the people who died today?" Henry asked, he reached into his brown duffle bag and rustled through his items.

"Not really, I mean I met some of them. We didn't lose any of _our_ people today," Carl's eyes were still glued to the sky as Henry went through his bag. "We lost people before: Noah, Beth, Bob... mom." Carl then turned over to see Henry with sitting, legs crossed holding a glass great white skark pipe. In his left hand, Henry held a light blue BIC lighter preparing to strike but the look of concern on Carl's stopped him in his tracks.

"What," the boy replied to Carl's look.

"What are you doing?"

"Smoking," he flatly replied. "I get it, you're a cop son, but you're dad isn't a cop anymore and pot is the least of my problems."

"It's not good for you," replied Carl.

"You're so innocent Carl, it's actually sweet," Henry mocked but Carl's face remained tight.

"It could make it worst," said Carl.

"What, _fucking leukemia_? Unlikely, Carl. Besides, it's been trying to kill me for about three years and I've been smoking four."

Carl's face turned in aghast, he even pivoted from his budding friend. "How did you even get that junk."

"My sister. I steal it from Phillip but it's not the most plentiful crop in the wild. I've had this for over six months and currently we are encircled in a ring of walkers. Death is pretty probable. With that being said, it's probably a good idea if I go ahead and smoke this. Carpe Diem, right?"

"What about you, who have you lost?" asked Carl as Henry quickly flamed his pipe before inhaling.

"How much time do you have?" replied Henry.

 ** _Henry_** sat in the car with Jacob, the fair-haired ten-year-old slept peacefully in the PYTHON while Henry bopped his head to the music in his headphones. Phillip loaned Henry his MP3 player while the adults toiled with the current dilemma. Shane, Austin, Henry's father Stu and Sister Nancy, and Phillip all stood in the middle of the Alabama freeway contemplating their next move.

"We can keep heading toward Virginia, but we may have to abandon the PYTHON," declared Austin.

"Are you sure?" replied Nancy.

"It's not looking good," answered Phillip. "The road is shut down, filled with the dead. We saw them on the drone. Five miles from here is nothing but a never ending wall of Walkers."

"There are no ways around it?" drilled Stu, his hand on his hip, illustrating his disappointment. "There has to be a way around them."

"The only way around them is through the forest, which means we go on feet," replied Austin. "The terrain isn't conducive with the PYTHON, it would be more of a risk to us."

"What do you think?" asked Phillip, addressing Shane. "You're mighty quite, nothing to add?"

Shane shrugged, "I think it's a shit idea."

"Speak your mind, Walsh," layered Austin. "What do you suggest?"

"I don't know if I have a suggestion, I just don't think it's a good idea to abandon the only thing that's kept us safe." Shane knew the advantage Phillip's group had to Rick's and that was the PYTHON. Even with all Phillip and Austin's advanced physical attributes as well as the infinite amount of toys and ammunition they had. It was the advanced military vehicle the PYTHON that made them invisible to the walkers. To abandon their saving grace could be lethal.

"We don't have any other options," replied Austin, his tone indicated the decision was made, it wasn't debatable.

"You say the walkers can't see us while we're in the PYTHON, ever wondered why?" asked Stu.

"We know why, its sound proof and totally black," replied Austin. "To us, we're nothing but a big black block of nothing. We've covered this, Rockwell."

"There has to be another way," said Nancy.

"Wish there were," replied Phillip. "I'll get on the drone; make sure the forest is clear. We'll park the PYTHON close, if we find another way to take it with us, we'll come back."

"Otherwise, we are on feet," added Shane. "Nothing new to me."

 ** _Henry_** began to shake his head, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Then don't," Carl said before placing his hand on Henry's shoulder. "If it's anything like what I had to do for my mom, then I understand."

"What do you mean?" asked Henry. "Did you mean you had to ---?"

"I had to shoot her so she wouldn't," Carl took in a deep breath briefly reliving the events of the prison, "so she wouldn't come back."

"Then you're lucky," replied Henry. "I wasn't that lucky." Henry let out a sharp breath; he and Carl began what could be a great relationship. Henry was sure that talking about his pain would make him feel better; they may even get passed his grief. More so than his grief, he wanted to get past his guilt.

"I should have just listened to Shane, but I fucked it up," said Henry. "It's all my fault"

 ** _The_** group had only made it ten miles away from the PYTHON. A campfire was the only light the group had. Shane, Henry, Nancy, Stu and Jacob kept each other company while Austin and Phillip spent some "quality time" together many yards away.

Fireflies danced in the air and the sound of the cracking wood could be heard as the flames roared. Henry had to stick with his brother, that was his main job, keeping Jacob safe. "I'm hungry," the boy said to his elder brother.

Henry retrieves a bag of eminems he found days ago, "Save me the blue ones," said Henry as he passed the bag to his brother.

"You little wart, you never told me you had candy," taunted Nancy who laid her body against Shane.

"See, it's that kind of name calling that kept you out of the starburst Club," replied Henry.

"You had starburst and didn't share, I've taught you nothing," Nancy teased.

Truer words had not been spoken, Henry stood almost 5'10 and remarkably healthy for a person with his diagnosis. But even with these attributes, Henry had yet to kill a walker. His father Stu attempted to shield his children from this world as best he could. Especially Henry, he knew it was a matter of time before his son's cancer diagnosis would kill him. He wanted to keep him out of the mele.

"Hey aardvark," Stu teased Jacob affectionately, "come sit with me."

In the distance, they group could hear the rustle of tin cans that used as an alarm system for walkers. Shane immediately gripped his pistol, "What was that?" Before the group could react a family opossums whisked passed them.

A sigh of relief was released by the group, alleviating them of the tension. Before the group could completely relax the cans began to rustle again to which both Shane and Nancy stood. Shane's eyes tightened as he looked intensely into the darkness of night.

An echoing moan could be heard in the distance as well as the sound of dragging feet.

" _Fuck_! We gotta go," Shane declared.

The group quickly grab their belongings and started to head east. Shane immediately activated his earpiece radio, with his left finger, "Phillip and Austin, where in the hell are you." Henry could hear the frantic nature of Shane's voice as he demanded them to help their group. As the group continued to retreat deeper in the forest they ran into a large lake.

"How deep do you think that thing is?" Nancy asked Shane.

"No freaking clue, but we gotta get across, "replied Shane.

"Dad, I'm scared," replied Jacob who was on his father Stu's back.

The voices started to blur and run together, Henry couldn't decipher which was which. He had run from the walkers before, but this time was different .This time he was sure his time had come. The walkers were getting closer and he knew he couldn't get across that river, surely not with his brother.

"We can't run, Shane," declared Stu. "I can't get there with Jacob on my back and Henry can't swim that far."

"Well, _damn it,_ they're comin', Stu," Shane passionately replied.

"What do we do, dad?" asked Nancy.

"We fight," declared Stu as the wall of walkers marched ever closer. Stu counted roughly twenty. "We use guns until we're out of bullets, then we go hand-to-hand." Stu retrieved his shotgun that rested on his shoulder and pointed at the approaching walkers. "NOW!"

The group began to fire their weapons, Henry stood in front of his brother, holding a small pocket knife while Shane, Stu, and Nancy did their best to clear the brush of zombies. The bodies hit the floor as bullets ripped through their brains. Stu ran out of shells and like a mallet, he began to bludgeon the dead.

 _This isn't good_ , thought Shane as the wall of walker lurched ever closer. Shane was winded but still could fight; Nancy too was still in the game. But Stu was in danger; he pulled away from the line in attempt to lure the walkers away from his sons. But this sealed his fate, the walkers descended upon him. Stu managed to dodge the first walker that attempted to bite his arm. Unfortunately Stu couldn't dodge the walker who bit his right shoulder blade.

Stu screamed in horror, Shane immediately attempted to intervene. He quickly reload his clip and fired into the crowd of walkers attacking Stu. Henry couldn't wait anymore, he had to help but his feet wouldn't allow him to move. Even in all this chaos, he stood still. He was the in eye of the hurricane.

Jacob however could not contain his fright, the boy runs from his brother towards his older sister Nancy who herself busy with an oncoming walker. Henry chased after his fleeing brother but he was knocked down and pinned by a large male walker.

Behind the herd of walkers, Phillip, Austin, and Buster attacked, clearing the remaining walkers. The battle was intense, but when the dust settled those survive were standing. Most of them at least. As Phillip got closer it revealed a bleeding, crying Stu cradling a limp Jacob. The boy's body was riddled with bites from the walkers. Henry sat on the ground merely inches from his father and brother with a blank look on his face. Horror rushed through the veins of the survivors, they had lost majorly tonight.

Stu cradled the boy's body, repeating to himself, "No, no, no!" as he rocked back and forth with his son's body. Shane knew it would only be a matter of time before Jacob reanimated and became a threat to them all. Stu and Shane had developed a closeness, especially after Shane began a relationship with Nancy.

"Stu," Shane said placing his hand on Stu's shoulder. "He's gone and if we don't do something about this he's going to hurt you."

"I'm already _dead!"_ Stu shot back. "What do I have left to lose?"

"Nancy and Henry," replied Shane. "Jacob's gone, Stu. And what happens next is something you don't want to see. Trust me."

Shane's word's hit their target; through tears Stu retrieves his knife. Shane kneels with Stu and clasp Stu's hand to help guide him through this heart aching mission. "I'm with you Stu, we all are." Shane grips the back of Stu's hand quickly dives the pocket knife through the back of Jacob's head before he could reanimate.

Phillip watched in horror, thinking of his own son, Cameron. "We can't go on feet, Austin. If this isn't a sign, I don't know what is."

"What do you suggest, walk back to the PYTHON? We are still blocked by hundreds of walkers. So Phillip, why in the hell should we listened to your plan," Austin's voice was condescending and hostile. He too was hurt by tonight's events but saw it more of a risk to attempt to double back.

"Because I _fucking_ said so!" retorted Phillip, his voice was elevated and his private conversation went public. "Look around Austin, who else needs to die before you get it. We're going back to the PYTHON; you can come with or stay. Shane, let me help you move Stu."

The survivors made it to the PYTHON without any issues. Austin quickly attended to Stu's wounds, Stu had received a bite on the shoulder, arm, and his back. He had already developed a fever and Austin speculated it would only be hours. Stu and Austin had at times a cancerous relationship, both men were middle-aged, military, alpha males. But Stu respected Austin just as he respected Phillip. But it was Shane, who Stu grew to love.

"Shane, I need you to do me a favor," Stu said through labored breaths. The two men sat in the PYTHON alone, per Stu's request.

"Anything," replied Shane.

"You all, you're like family now, Shane," replied Stu.

"We all are," corrected Shane. "All of us are in this together."

"No, Shane, you're special, you reminded me of myself," Stu said through a chuckle that melted into a cough. "But I need you to help me, help my son."

"Henry, how?"

"Come closer," Stu requested to Shane. Stu whispered instructions in Shane's ear and his eyes expanded with shock.

"I don't know, Stu. This is going to crush him," replied Shane.

"It'll make him a man."

"What about Austin or Phillip, they won't stand for it," replied Shane.

"Tell Phillip, he will understand, Austin probably not. But we have to move quickly, I don't have much time. Shane, you can't tell Nancy, not until it's over."

Shane nodded and headed out of the PYTHON.

"This is our fault," said Phillip his arms folded and his body rested against a willow tree. "We should have been with them."

"I don't want to hear any of that," Austin sharply dismissed. "They'd probably be all dead if not for us."Austin kept his voice low enough that only he and Phillip would hear their conversation. "Sitting in that Kmart, just waiting to be picked off."

"And then we showed up, ruined their home," Phillip replied, he still held guilt for the events that brought the Rockwell family into their fold. Austin, however rejected that notion, he held a messiah complex and being the group's leader only inflated it at times.

"These things happen, Phillip, better them than you," Phillip narrowed his eyes at the coldness of his husband.

"This isn't who you are, Austin. We help people."

" ** _You_** help people," replied Austin, placing his finger condescendingly on Phillip's chest. "I just keep them alive, keep them fed."

Phillip could smell the vodka on his husband's breath, "You better get your goddamned finger out of my face," replied Phillip in a cool but threatening tone. "And I would slow down on the schnapps." Phillip shoulder bumps Austin as he walks past.

"What's his problem," asked Shane as he walked up to the two. He had seen Phillip have fits like this before.

"He's blaming himself and by extension me for what happened here," replied Austin. Austin wanted to hear what Shane thought about it, did he too believe that it was Phillip and Austin's fault.

"The situation is about as fucked up as it could get, but you two were scavenging for food, it's nobody's fault, man. Nobody's."

"How in the fuck are we going to get through those walkers, Shane?"

"How am I supposed to know, aren't you and him the one planning and schemin'," replied Shane.

" _Scheming_ ," Austin echoed. "That's an interesting choice of words."

"Come on, man," replied Shane, realizing he stepped on a landmine. "You are the one running the show; you've made that clear to all of us. You didn't bully us, force us, you earned that spot. But some of your decisions, you just make unilaterally, I wonder if sometimes..."

"What?" drilled Austin?

"I wonder if you even want to be the leader, you treat it like a chore, a burden you and only you have to carry,"

"It is," replied Austin. "I told Phillip that it wasn't our fault, that you all should be happy that we saved you all. Truth is, it is _my_ fault, I led us to this point that led us to Jacob and Stu's death. I'll own that, just like I own and carry everything else. We didn't save _you_ Shane, You saved us." Austin placed his hand on Shane's shoulder. "You saved us."

"I don't like this, Shane, "Phillip said to Shane as both men headed back to the PYTHON. Shane had briefed him on what Stu's final wishes were. Phillip recognized that this plan could backfire tremendously but he believed this plan may work.

"You ain't gotta like it, it's his boy, not yours," replied Shane. "Besides, this needs to happen, for him to be ready."

"What if he's not ready, what if he's never going to be ready?" replied Phillip.

"Then we're just delaying the inevitable," replied Shane.

The two men approached the PYTHON where a dying Stu sat with his surviving children Henry and Nancy. Henry's eyes were moist with tears as were Nancy's as she held the calmly pale hand of her father.

"Nancy, can I see you for a little," asked Shane.

"Shane, my father doesn't have much time," replied Nancy.

"No, no, Nance," replied Stu, through hoarse lungs. "I'm fine. I need to talk to Henry alone. Man to man."

"Dad, I don't know," Nancy replied, gripping her father's hand tighter.

"I'm okay, honey," replied Stu. "Everything will be ok."

With additional coxing Nancy left the PYTHON with Shane and Phillip. Stu knew he didn't have a lot of time. But he had to make an impression his son. "I'm going to be dead soon, son."

"I know," the boy replied through tears. "It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, but you knew that since you were eleven years old. I knew after the first round of chemo, that life wasn't fair. Didn't you? Didn't it piss you off, the cards you were dealt?"

Henry never thought about it in that context, he merely saw himself as one of the many victims of cancer. He didn't mourn his pending death, merely assumed everyone would go, at least his wouldn't hurt, _much_. "I saw a video at the hospital, the therapist told me a lot of kids fight cancer and some of them make it. Most of them don't."

"But you don't survive it unless you fight, Henry!" Stu sternly countered. "Those things, those _walkers_ , they are the physical manifestation of that cancer. It's in front of you right now and you're going to have to kill it. Or it's going to kill you, Henry."

"I'm scared," replied Henry. "I'm too scared to fight."

"Then you're going to die, son. Just like Jacob and just like me and it's going to hurt. I can't protect you from this world, I never could. I couldn't protect your mom, I couldn't protect Jacob. It's up to you, Henry...." Stu could feel is body going weak. "It's in front of you right now, son. You can't run from it anymore. Fight or die, it's the truth. Son..." Stu began to fade into darkness.

"Dad?" Henry called out to a still, quiet Stu, his eyes still wide and open. "Dad? Henry's voice louder more assertive, but then it dawned on him, he was gone. " _Daddy_?"

A pulse of energy went through Stu's corpse and his fingers began to move rapidly and a watery growl escaped from Phillip's mouth. Stu's blue eyes became clouded as the transformation was completed. Stu was reanimating and Henry knew it he quickly darted for the doors of the Humvee but they had been locked by Phillip. This was Stu's final request, he would make a man out of his son and in his death prepare him for the world of today. Henry would either pass this test or die trying.

Henry began to bang on the window of the Humvee crying out desperately. The noise got Nancy's attention but before she could help her brother Shane grabs her from behind in a tight grip around her waist. "I can't let you do it, Nancy. Stu wanted it this way."

"No! Let me go! _HENRY!"_ cried out Nancy.

Henry saw his sister struggling to get free from Shane. Henry realized that he was on his own. It was like his father said, he couldn't run anymore. Stu's body had completely reanimated and now was limping towards Henry as he struggled to open the back door. Stu pounces on Henry, teeth exposed ready to tear his flesh from his bones.

Nancy slams her foot on Shane's toe and head butts him from behind, ultimately releasing herself from his grip. Phillip was impressed by her escape and says, " _Nice_." Shane however wasn't as thrilled. Both men chased behind her as they headed back to the PYTHON. By this time, Austin too had become very curious what was going on, he collects his handgun and heads towards the other. As the group made it to the PYTHON a bloody hand print slammed against the glass.

"Shit!" hissed Shane, he quickly puts on the numeric code and deactivated the locks and all the doors of the PYTHON opens. from the back door Henry emerges, blood splatter across his face. in his left hand was bloody pocket knife that once belonged to Jacob. Henry's eyes blue but burned with intensity of three suns.

He knew the truth now; there was no hiding from this world: and he had no intentions on hiding anymore.

ps://st$�U3�B{


	20. Ep 4, Part 3 (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip's BACK STORY!!!

**The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode Four: **... And Then There Were Three**  
Part 3: "Orphaned"  


**Phillip's POV Part 1**

 

Phillip could feel Spencer following him, even though Spencer did his best to keep his distance. Alexandria was only so big and Spencer left his figurative and literal footprints everywhere. By the time Phillip made it back to the PYTHON, parked outside of Erwin's former home Phillip had grown bored of their one-sided game of tag. "Why are you following  me?" Phillip finally asked aloud even though Spencer wasn't visible at that moment. Slowly a bashful Spencer emerged from behind a corner of the home.

Spencer in a dark blue flannel shirt with dark jeans, around his waist sat his 9 millimeter and secured around his shoulder was his rifle.  "Ok, soldier, you caught me."

"No shit, Sherlock," replied Phillip nastily.

"What's with your attitude, are you always a fucking-jerk?" asked Spencer, trying mirror Phillip's piss and vinegar attitude.

"I'm sorry, weren't you just following me around like Michael Myers for the last thirty minutes?" Phillip had erased the space between the two by stepping closer to Spencer, expecting him to back away from the challenge. Spencer did not; he stood still defiantly much to Phillip's surprise.

Spencer quickly scanned the neighborhood with his eyes making sure he didn't have any unwanted eyes on them. He couldn't locate anyone so Spencer says in a low voice, "I've figured you out."

"Is that so?"

"Yup," replied Spencer confidently. "You try your best to put on this act, to scare people away from you. But I'm not fooled."

"Let me guess, deep down inside I secretly care deeply about you but I'm just lying to myself because I've been hurt so many times?" Phillip injected faux drama in his voice to intensify his condensation. "If you believe that horse-shit, well..."

"Will you shut up, for five seconds, gosh!" Spencer said, earnestly agitated by Phillip's antagonizing behavior. Spencer nervously scanned the area once more to make sure they were truly in private. "I _know_ you don't like me, I don't like you, _either_."

Phillip places his right hand slightly over his heart and replies, "Ooh, _scathing_."

Spencer again nervously scans the area before saying in a low voice, "But you like what I do to you. I know that much."

Phillip shrugs, "You served as a decent form of distraction."

"Then, let's go ... distract ourselves," replied Spencer.

It didn't take long before the two men were in each other's embrace inside of the PYTHON. Again, Phillip took the passive role but decided not to be so nasty to Spencer once they finished. He figured, why ruin a decent moment, and for Spencer's performance was a B-. Undressed they sat, Spencer pressed his face against Phillips back as he kissed his shoulders. Spencer could hear Phillip's heart beat, Spencer couldn't recall the last time he was that close to anyone. Then he remembered Jennifer, his ex from Toledo, Spencer quickly banished those sour memories for his current status.

"Are you scared?" Spencer asked Phillip, who he held closely.

"I've been scared for the pass two years, haven't you?" this was the first drop of weakness Phillip exposed to Spencer, immediately regretting it once he said it. "Me and Austin were at work when we came across our first 'dead one'. That one 'dead one' immediately turned into _eight_. Before that night the walkers were just weird stories you heard on YouTube. _Walkers_ were just a small segment on some illuminati/Alex Jones documentary. And then they weren't. One day they became real and they were everywhere. I'm no more scared today than I was that day. It was like a bad day, started off a bad day and just... stayed that way, I guess."

"It's different now, they're everywhere now , we're drowning in them. It's only a matter of time before something happens." Spencer could feel the end coming soon, not by wish but as forecast. Spencer figured he had been lucky up to this point and now the grim reaper wanted his due. "When there are a couple of them out there in the woods or maybe a few at the gate, that's one thing. This... _This_ is a plague."

" '" _Or if I should send a plague against that country and pour out My wrath in blood on it to cut off man and beast from it_ ,'" Phillip's voice had somewhat dynamic delivery, similar to a southern preacher.

Spencer grew silent, he figured Phillip was quoting scripture but wasn't sure from where . Spencer assumed Phillip had some sort of religious affiliation based on the silver St. Christopher pendant that Phillip still had on, it was the only thing he had on. "What does that mean?"

"I always interpreted it as one day God would send something to wipe us all out," replied Phillip. He was transfixed by the contrast of their skin, Phillip's dark olive to Spencer's much softer bronze.

"Not the ominous bible verse, I meant this," Spencer used his left index finger to trace the necklace to which Phillip recoiled. "Sorry," Spencer's apology was a kneejerk response to Phillip's body language.

"It's St. Christopher, it's supposed to protect you when you travel. It was really my mother's, when I got married to Austin she gave it to him. His parents died when he was younger and she wanted him to know he had a family: _us_."

Spencer could sense this was his opportunity to connect with Phillip beyond just sex. "What happened to you?"

"Everything," Phillip replied dryly; he wasn't being coy, he simply being accurate. "Where do I begin: High School?"

Spencer hugged Phillip tighter, absorbing his warmth, inhaling the sweetness of his smell. "Wherever you want."

 **There** were very few things that Phillip couldn't do. He knew how to cook, sing, dance, he wasn't too bad to look at, either.  The only thing that Phillip couldn't do was handle pain. Inflicting pain was easy, absorbing it was significantly harder. After his brief concert at Coachella Phillip immediately boarded the plane and headed to Nigeria. Phillip had two more missions left with ATLAS and once those were completed   he was no longer obligated to do any further missions with the organization. Phillip was glad. After years and years of fighting, killing, he was ready to hang up his guns become a regular civilian, easier said than done.  A part of Phillip really did enjoy the fighting, the killing, there was a colonel part of Phillip that enjoyed the darkness that ATLAS brought.   Phillip specifically like missions where he was taking out the truly evil of evil doers.  And one of the most evil was Mohamed Furaj.

Mohamed Furaj was a warlord  from Eastern Nigeria. Phillip had been working closely with Mohamed, undercover. Phillip being multiracial and easily able to mix in with the community posed as a Saudi businessman who had lots of money, who was willing to funnel out that money inside of the Nigerian resistance.  Simply put, Phillip would pay Mohamed to complete terrorists' missions within Nigeria and the world abroad. Phillip really hated Mohamed.  On top of Mohamed being your general asshole  Mohamed also was a rapist, oftentimes kidnapping young girls, forcing them into prostitution, ultimately killing them.  Also, due to his sexual appetites.  Foraj helped spread the Aids epidemic.  Phillip knew that once he killed Mohamed he would feel a lot better.  No one knew about ATLAS and his missions outside of his mother and his husband Austin.  This mission was a solo mission.  He didn't take any bodyguards because he didn't feel like he needed any.  He didn't take any backup resources because he didn't feel like he needed those either.  Phillip was going to be a one man army.  He figured the best way to take out Mohamed was to go in, one man, low profile, so he did.  Phillip covered himself with the black tactical uniform, form fitting with padded with armor.  His face was covered with his ski mask and in one of his ear lobes was one headphone.  The music from Kanye West's "Clique", played though his ear bud headphones as Phillip prepared himself. Phillip had been watching the compound for almost seven hours before he finally struck.  He wanted to make  sure when he took out the warlord that there wouldn't be that much resistance. He was going to make it quick and easy. 

The compound, only roughly 1100 square feet, was protected by 12 men.  Phillip figured it would be easy to take those men out and then penetrate the compound and take out Mohamed.  Another wayhe could do it is simply by blowing it up, something that he definitely thought about but figured that it wouldn't be the most practical.  He would use that as a plan C if things went left.  Phillip watched as the men circle the compound. They did a rather shit job in making sure no one was there because Phillip hid within the jungle, unnoticed.  His eyes like an eagle with sharp intelligence  Phillip waited for his opportunity, and the opportunity came pretty quickly.  All it took was for one guard not to pay attention long enough, and Phillip attacked immediately clearing out the men one by one. Using a silenced machine pistol, Phillip easily cut down the fighters.

  _Well, that was easy_ , Phillip thought, 12 men, and one of the men happened to be Mohamed.  This was too easy, Phillip said. If the last mission  that he has to do for ATLAS was half as easy as this mission he would be back performing on stage in no time. 

Phillip was moments from calling in the mission when a bullet quickly wisped past him.  "The fuck," Phillip said, before another bullet slammed into his shoulder, penetrating his armor. He quickly ducked behind an abandon school bus as the  chain of bullets continue to shower him from the distance. Phillip could hear their  voices, soft, small voices.  Looking through the bus' rearview mirror, Phillip saw them, "oh my God:, he said aloud. 

They were small; they were children. They were child soldiers, some of them so small that they could barely hold their guns but they continued to fire bullets one after the other, screaming in Nigerian, "kill him, Kill him!   We must kill him or they'll kill us! Kill him!" The bullets continued to rush towards Phillip.  It would only be a matter of time before the school bus exploded or one of the bullets got lucky and actually met their mark. One had already got him in the shoulder.  Phillip had just had his son Cameron, not  even a year, previously.  His small son's face burned in his mind. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

Phillip had taken many lives.  It comes with the territory working for ATLAS but this was different. No, please God, no, Phillip kept saying to himself because he knew what he had to do next.  The children continued to scream as they fired their guns.  Phillip took a deep breath, quickly threw over a smoke bomb. The bomb exploded, spraying a mist of black smoke all over the area. Phillip takes in a deep breath and exhales. "I'm sorry," Phillip whimpered through clenched teeth. He quickly rises over the hood of the vehicle and fires a chain of bullets, each one of them hitting their target. It would only  take a few moments before all those small bodies stop moving.  Phillip had cleared the resistance. 

Phillip looked at the bodies, all of them, young and old, and it hit him like lightning .  "I quit, I quit, I quit," he kept saying, over and over and over. He threw his gun to the ground, "I quit, I quit." Overwhelmed by grief, Phillip collapses to the ground crying. "I quit, I quit. "

There are few places that Phillip could find refuge.  He definitely couldn't go home.  Technically he didn't finish the mission. Half of the mission was killing Mohamed.  The second  part of the mission was making sure he collected enough of the documents to bring back to ATLAS. Phillip immediately took the first flight back to the United States, after quickly nursing his own wound in an airport bathroom.  His flight landed at  JFK in New York City.  Though Phillip and Austin both own a  Brownstone in lower Manhattan Phillip figured that would be the first place that Austin would look for him, but there was one place, one place that Austin didn't know anything about.  For  the past year and a half, Austin and Phillip were working towards a separation and in that timeframe  Phillip began a new relationship.

Douglas O'Riley lived in Jersey City, New Jersey, the city adjacent from lower Manhattan, right across the Hudson.  Douglas, a Jersey City police officer, would be just the person that Phillip would need to see.  The two have been dating for almost eight months and before Phillip is ready to go deal with the real world he wanted to spend some time with Doug.  Phillip knocked on the door of Douglas' two bedroom apartment located in downtown Jersey City. Luckily the officer was home.

"Shit, Phillip, why didn't you call? "

"I just wanted to see you," Phillip said.  "I had a really bad couple of nights and I really wanted to see you." 

"Well, come in.  Douglas opened the door and let Phillip inside.  The two immediately gave in to their carnal  instinct but while they were making love Douglas did notice the patch on Phillip's arm and also a distinct circular bruise on his shoulder.  Douglas knew exactly what that was.  "I should probably go take a shower, Phillip said, it's been a rough couple of days.

"What's that on your shoulder?" Douglas asked.

"Oh, nothing, just a cut.  Probably should get that cleaned. Do you have any antiseptics here?"

"Yeah, right inside of the bathroom cabinet.  You're going to do anything about that ballistic burn?" Douglas asked Phillip.  Excuse me! 

"Phillip, I have been on the beat for almost seven years, do you think I don't know what a gunshot wound looks like?  Do you think I have never seen anything like that before?"

Phillip became quiet, he pressed himself against the wall, holding his arms, looking away from Douglas.  "If you are in trouble, I am the fucking police, I can help you.  What's wrong? Talk to me."

"You don't  understand," Phillip said.

"I don't understand because you are not saying anything," Douglas said, becoming more assertive. He wanted to find out what was going on with Phillip. What was he hiding from?  Who was he hiding from? "So what in the hell is going on?" Douglas erasing the distance between the two. "Tell me who did it, and I'll kick their  ass."

Phillip chuckled at the notion, "I did it to myself."

"You shot yourself?" Douglas said, now becoming even more concerned about Phillip. Phillip did have a mystery to him but Douglas feared that that could be depression.

"Not literally, honestly, the gun shot is the last of my problems, I probably won't even feelit in a couple of. " Phillip realized he was talking too much. He started to reveal too much about himself and his "enhancements with Douglas.

Phillip realized it was a mistake involving Douglas in his insanity. He figured he needed to leave, but he couldn't do it abruptly, he had to soften the arrow throgh the heart with a punch to the face. "I'm married."

"What, you mean like legally."

"Three years now and we have a toddler."

"I didn't know you were married, I knew you were together but I didn't know you were married." 

Phillip nods, "it's a complicated story but now I have nothing to do with him. Some other things that are going on but I can't talk to you about."

"I don't like this," Douglas said.   "I don't like secrets, I don't like you coming back hurt." 

"I can handle it, trust me.  I just need to get myself cleaned up."  There was a knock on the door.  The two men's eyes immediately darted to the door. Douglas grabbed his service weapon and headed to his front door. 

Phillip tried to stop him.  "You don't even know who it is and it's most likely not who you think it is."

"I know, I just take my gun everywhere," Douglas said.  He immediately look through the peephole and saw a tall white man sitting outside holding a pizza.

"I didn't order a Pizza, Douglas said.  Who are you?" Douglas asked? 

"It's Carmine from Domani Pizzeria You've guys wanted a sausage, extra cheese, light sauce, right?"     Though Douglas didn't order that pizza, due to the current situation it was rather timely. "How much do I owe you?" Douglas asked. 

"Seventeen bucks plus tip."

Douglas stuffed his service weapon behind his back and opens the door, revealing Austin holding a pizza.  "God damn it," Phillip said aloud. "How did you even know that I was here?"

"Don't ask me any questions, Phillip" Austin replied sternly said.  "Here is your pizza, it's on the house.  Phillip, let's go." 

"Is this your husband, Douglas asked?  Phillip's eyes revealed it all. Deep inside Phillip figured Austin would find them. He was just hoping it wouldn't be tonight, Phillip was sure ATLAS helped Austin track him down.

"Come on, move your ass," Austin said to Phillip."  "You had me come over here to fucking Jersey, you know I hate Jersey. "

Douglass drops the Pizza immediately and retrieves his pistol hidden in his jacket.  Douglas was too slow.  Austin had already drawn his larger handgun  and pointed it Douglas' face. "Listen here you little Mick fuck," Austin said to Douglas. ", _my husband_ and I are going to leave and I am going to be nice and allow you to keep your life but don't push me.     Phillip, we're leaving."

Phillip with his head held down walked towards the door.  "You don't have to go anywhere," Douglas said to Phillip.  "

"No, I think I probably should, Phillip said, I'm causing a lot of problems here." 

"How did you find me?" Phillip asked, his eyes burning at Austin. 

"Is that a serious question?" Austin replied? 

"So we are patronizing each other already?" Phillip retorted. "Can we skip past that and get to the part where we answer each other's questions?" Austin cut his eyes at Phillip.

"Alright, I followed you.  You were very sloppy."

"How long have you known about him?"

"About six months. How long has it been going on?"

"About a year. "

Austin already knew that the relationship between him and Phillip was disintegrating.  He wasn't surprised that there were other relationships.  He was just more surprised that the current extramarital affair last as long as it did. 

"We haven't been the same," Phillip began.  "We haven't been the same since Cameron was born.  You barely talk to me.  You rarely spend time with us.  Ever since our child was born it was like you forgot that we are even a family". 

Austin wasn't going for that bull shit. He was not about to allow Phillip to reverse this on him.  "Do you really think that strategy is going to fly, saying that this is somehow my fault?"

Phillip thought about a quick retort.  Was he going to be petty and childish or was he going to be mature about this?  The two of them have been together almost seven years. Austin was the first person he ever fell in love with and for a while he thought he would be the last.

Phillip, at age 25 decided to take the mature route, "you are right Austin, you are absolutely right.  I made my own decisions and I have decided to see other people. I decided to take our money and funnel it into a music career that probably won't be fruitful but that's not the point.  The point is, I wanted to do something for me that was away  from all the killing.  You may enjoy being a soldier.  You may enjoy the hustle and bustle of going to different countries and taking people's lives but I would much rather just sit in New York with my kid and go shopping and do normal stuff like a normal parent.  That's what I want.  _You don't want that_ , you want different things and it's okay."  Phillip let out a deep exhale, quickly followed by an even deeper inhale.  "We can't keep living like this," Phillip confesses.  "You don't deserve it, I don't deserve it. Cameron definitely doesn't deserve it."

  Austin's eyes quickly locked with Phillip's. "Then what do we do, get divorced? "

Phillip shrugs, "isn't that how the breeders do it?  When things don't work out they go down to the courthouse  and start the litigation, I guess."

Austin pressed his body against the light pole.  He looked up at the starry, cobalt. New Jersey sky, looking over at the city lights of Manhattan.  "We don't have to get ugly," Austin said. "I'm confident we could separate our assets, do this in a rational way. "

Phillip shrugged at Austin's blasé attitude about the idea of their divorce.  "I guess you can leave the team, cook up some paperwork , do a divorce.  I guess it will take a couple of months.  So we are both agreeing." 

Austin entertained the idea of a hasten divorce but he quickly realized that Austin and Phillip had one more mission together with ATLAS. "No, we are probably going to have to stay married another nine months. I mean, you have that thing to take care of in Miami, our last _dance_. There is no way we are going to get out of it. "

"I am confident you can find someone else to replace me.  You don't need me to personally do this mission with you," Phillip countered. 

"Consider this a part of our divorce settlement. You can continue to date your little mick friend and I won't get involved. I will let you do whatever you want to do.  It's _your_ life."  

"And what do we do with our friends for the next nine months?  There is still Thanksgiving, Christmas, all these fucking holidays is coming up," Phillip reminds  Austin. 

"We are just going to pretend like everything is okay."  Phillip cut his eyes at Austin which Austin mirrored. The hostile stare Austin had ultimately melted into a small shrug .  "Are you serious? Your job is literally an assassin, where you have to go undercover and pretend to be someone else. I am positive you can pretend that we are still married, at least around your family."

  "What about Cameron?" Phillip asked. 

"Well, he is _your_ son," Austin said. 

The words hit Phillip like lightening.  "What did you say?  Are you saying that he is **_not_** your son anymore that he is just mine?"

Austin was careful with his words.  "What I mean is, he is your biological son.  Whatever your wish is, whatever you feel comfortable with is what we'll do."

The coldness of Austin's voice and attitude about the separation and custody of Cameron hurt Phillip the most.  Austin  he loves you.  And I love him too, Austin replied but it's whatever you want to do Phillip, whatever you want to do. "

Austin will leave Phillip alone and Phillip will return back to his lover. Over the next nine months, Austin and Phillip will continue their charade of being the perfect gay couple, taking pictures, going out to family outings, being the picture perfect couple.  Secretly the two are separating their finances as Phillip opted to stay in New York City and Austin deciding to move to San Diego. Phillip remembered the first time he saw a Walker. It was on a YouTube video, people thought it was some type of reaction to bad meth.  The reality was the world was falling.  Phillip watched that video as he boarded the plane to Miami. Phillip thought this would be his last mission with Austin.  He had no idea how wrong he was.

 

 


	21. Episode Four: ... And Then There Were Three / Part 3: "Orphaned"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip's POV Part2

**The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode Four: **... And Then There Were Three**  
Part 3: "Orphaned"  
  


**Phillip's POV Part2**

 

One thing that stuck out to Phillip was the amount of walkers, still trolling around the outskirts of the Honeycutt Estates. His eyes narrowed when he saw the twenty-so walkers in various forms of decomposition moaning as they wandered up the roads. Phillip wondered what was keeping them from the compound. "We should get off the main road," suggested Phillip. "The terrain isn't too bad and I doubt there would be as many Stiffs walking around.

"Have you ever drove through it before," asked Shane.

"Only once, I snuck out of the house when I was 17," confessed Phillip. "I took a dirt bike and drove off the property. And that was _prior_ to any ATLAS training."

"You were quite the little hellion, Phil," Nancy teased.

Phillip scoffed, "you have no, idea pumpkin."

As the group drove through the field, the five became more nervous, unsure of what to expect when they reached the property. When the five reached the fifteen foot high walls they noticed a few remaining walkers.

"Ok, me and Shane will clear the bush, Austin you are staying with the Nancy and Henry. Once we're clear you're going to park this big son of a bitch against the wall and we're heading over. Any questions?"

"Yeah, one," Shane said. "Who died and made you the boss."

"I've _been_ the boss, move your ass," Phillip said as he open the door to the PYTHON, with his left fist he knocked down a male walker. After slamming the Humvee door Phillip quickly stumps on the walker's head, killing him.

Phillip was lightly dressed, only wearing his tactical body suit, it was strong enough to withstand a walker bite but was vulnerable to bullets. Using his long bowie knives he slashed through the dead. Shane joined him, using his large red fireman's axe to plow through the brains of the coming walkers. Shane noticed that these walkers appeared to be stragglers left behind by a larger herd. He came to this hypothesis due to the fact that there were already remains of dead walkers before they arrived.

After the area was cleared Shane stated, "Something went down here."

"What do you mean?" replied Phillip, "It was just six walkers, Shane."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right," Shane's stomach churned, his spider-sense wasn't tingling, it banged like a gong.

"Damn it, we just got here, can we pretend to be positive," countered Phillip. "It took me two years to get here."

Shane could hear the desperation in Phillip's voice, he had to believe in something, he had come too far. The two men used the now parked PYTHON to climb over the 18-foot high wall, opting to ensure the safety of the crew. When Phillip landed, the two noticed more deceased walkers. Phillip waited patiently as Henry, Austin and a pregnant Nancy climb over the wall as well.'

"Damn, Phil, why the hell does your family have a wall so high?"

"They were very anti-social," replied Phillip as he counted the corpses on the large estate's lawn. "Six."

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Austin said, let's head to the house. Austin placed his hand on Phillip shoulder and caressed him lovingly. Whatever they were going to face next, they were going to face together.

The large property sat atop a hill surrounded by a larger tobacco field. The closer the group got to the home the more the sense of horror grew in Phillip's chest. _Why hasn't anyone stopped us yet_ , thought Phillip. Austin was the first to notice the closer the group got to the home the faster Phillip moved.

"This isn't right, this is fucked," Phillip started to say under his breath.

Nancy noticed Phillip's frantic tone and whispered to Shane, "What's up with Phil, I've never seen him like this."

"Neither have I," replied Shane. Without saying a word Phillip began to dart toward the property.

"Shit," hissed Austin as he too raced after Phillip, calling out his name.

"Stay with your sister, we don't know _who_ is in that house," Shane ordered Henry before chasing after Austin and Phillip.

Nancy retrieved her pink nine millimeter she affectionately named Miley Cyrus from its holster, she had it every since she joined the Army. "Watch my back," Nancy demanded Henry, her eyes intensely burning.

Shane could barely keep up with Phillip nor Austin, the officer almost tripped on the very treacherous terrain. After balancing himself Shane was able to see the largeness of the Victorian home. The white paint was stained by smoke.

"No, no, no!" Shane could hear Phillip whimper as he continued to race towards the home.

"Phillip you don't know what's in there, stop!" screamed Austin, he too couldn't keep up with Phillip's chemically enhanced speed.

Phillip briskly arrived at the large homes porch and with one solid kick at the cherry oak Victorian doors it revealed his nightmare. Slowly he entered, the home had been ransacked, the sign of a struggle was obvious by the amount of blood and overturned furniture. All of the energy the forced Phillip through the plantation's field bled out of him when he realized that he would never see his son again.

"Cameron!" Phillip called out as he searched through the home. "Cameron!" the smell of the dead made Phillip's stomach churn but he pressed on. Phillip retrieved his left holstered berretta as he began to creep through the house.

Austin made it inside of the home before Shane, "Wait, god damn it, will you wait on fucking a second."

"Something happened here," Phillip said, his eyes vacant. He was hypnotized by this horror. There was a frantic nature to his tone, he could not focus on his husbands words. He scanned the room searching for his family, the home was damaged, furniture was flipped and the smell of burned wood permiated in the home.

Shane was very suspicious of the house, but he couldn't leave Nancy and Henry alone. Shane whispers to Austin, "Do you got this, because _he's_ out for lunch."

"I'll keep my eye on him, you get Henry and Nancy inside, keep the group tight, Shane. We still don't know who's out here and if they're coming back."

Shane nodded before heading back outside. Luckily for Shane, Nancy and Henry stayed exactly where he told them, both of them armed and ready to attack if need be. Henry's face soften when he laid eyes on Shane who emerged through the tobacco field.

"What's going on Shane? Where's Phillip and Austin?"

"They are searching the house, making sure there are no unwelcome guest," answered Shane.

"Where is his family, Austin and Phillip's son, Cameron?" asked Henry.

Shane remained silent, turning his head slightly from the two. "Oh my god," sighed Nancy. "How's Phillip?"

"He needs us," confessed Shane. "He needs his family."

"Maybe they left," said Austin, following Phillip throughout the home as he called out Cameron and his Mother's name.

"And go where?" Phillip's voice was more hostile and cross. "No, they know to stay here, there were guns, walls, food, everything you could ever need was here. My family was two steps from being a Branch Davidian, they could have held up here for years before needing to go scavenging. Something isn't right."

Austin placed both of his hands on Phillip's shoulders and electricity raced through his body. Austin could feel the tension in his spouse, "Phil, we may have to accept..."

"— _NO!_ ' retorted Phillip. "I don't have to do shit! If you want to give up, go right ahead, I'm going to find my son. _Cameron!"_

Shane, Nancy, and Henry entered the home, the haunted nature of the house sent shivers up Henry's spine. "It's looking really spooky in here," announced Henry.

"Hey, this isn't a joking matter," Nancy chastised. "Where are they?" In the distance, the sub-group of Henry, Nancy, and Shane heard a loud crash.

"Phillip," hissed Shane. "Come on, we gotta check on them." The group raced towards the sound of the thud; sure they would find Austin or Phillip. Shane was the first to find them; they entered a large library, dark and covered in dust.

"It's here," declared Phillip.

"What is here?" Asked Henry. "What is this place?"

"I can hear them," said Phillip, his face pressed against a large bookshelf. A faint banging could be heard behind the wall hidden by a book case. "I just have to move this." Phillip frantically ripped the books from the shelves as he searched for the right book.

"Phil, what the hell are you doing?" asked Shane.

"This is a panic room, I just got to find the right book," in that very moment he tugged a brown leather to me that resisted Phillip. "Eureka," Phillip said before tugging a second time causing a sharp clicking noise.

"Cliché, but effective," said Phillip.

"Phillip," Austin prompted Phillip as Phillip frantically attempted to pull the bookcase out of his way. "Phillip..." Phillip continued to ignore him, he reached the door large steel door hidden behind the bookcase.

"Shane, let me see that axe," demanded Phillip.

" _Phillip!"_ Austin's voice was assertive as he placed his hand on Phillip's shoulder. "Are you ready for what's behind this door?"

Phillip cut his eyes at Austin as if his question was said in Lithuanian. "I have waited two years just to _know_ what happened. I need to know. _Shane,_ the axe." Shane observed the exchange between the two, Austin and Phillip were two men he respected the most. But Shane understood what Phillip was going through. It was Phillip who went with Shane to the Greene farm when Shane needed closure. Today, Phillip needed that closure and Shane would support him. Shane passes the fireman axe to Phillip.

Austin folded his arms and watched Phillip strike aggressively at the door. It took three strikes before the door knob was finally broken along with the lock. "Cameron, I'm coming..." When Phillip open the door the odor of death hit him in the face.

"Oh my god," Nancy said when she took a good look at the scene. In the corner of the large room sat a woman, fair hair, skin gray by death, the back of her head blown off and a small pistol laying by her right hand. The woman's body was propped against the wall that was painted by brain matter and blood. From the shadow a small boy struggled to approach the group, looking no older than four years old then, child turned Walker walked towards the group.

"Cameron..." Phillip said breathlessly, unable to bear seeing his son this way, Phillip raised his gun to fire.

"No!" Austin screamed before he quickly slammed the door, trapping the zombifideCameron and the body of Barbara, Phillip's mother.

"I can do it!" screamed Phillip.

"I know," said Austin, who now used his body to block the door. "But I'm not going to let you. I'll take care of this."

Phillip's gun remain pointed at the door and in turn at Austin. Austin approached his husband and with one hand lowered the gun. "You don't have to do this one alone. I'm going to take of this and we are going to bury our son and Barb, together. We knew this could be what was waiting for us. I know you Phil; you want to carry this on your own, by yourself. But I'm not going to let you."

Philips face went blank, "He's still in there, he's cold." Phillip's voice had a weakness that he never before revealed to the group.

Austin wraps his arms tightly around Phillip and inhaled his spirit. "We are going to lay our son and our mother to rest. I'm going to take care of it, can you get me two sheets. "Austin pulled away from the embrace.

Phillip nodded and left the room, Nancy and Henry followed Shane however stayed behind. Austin left eyebrow rose with curiosity to which Shane replied, "You know I wasn't going to leave you to do this one alone."

"This is private, it's family," replied Austin.

"Ain't we family?"

"Not this type of family," Austin placed his back against the door that separatedhim from his reanimated son and dead mother in law. "I failed."

"We came as soon as we could," replied Shane. "There's nothing left we can have done, you know that right?" Shane approached Austin and laid his right hand on Austin's shoulder. "Man, I have no idea what you're feeling, but brother I'm with you."

Austin nodded, thankful for Shane's support. "But you have gone through something like this before. You had people before you met us. Lori, wasn't that her name."

Lori's name was an opening of a time capsel and once again those feelings return to Shane. Shane could remember Lori slender frame, raven hair and dark eyes. Shane remembered the sweetness of her skin, the suppleness of her kiss. Then like a runaway train, Shane remembered the tragedy of Lori, the loss of his baby, and even worst: memories of Rick.

It had been over a year since Shane thought of Lori, Phillip told Shane the best way to get over Lori was forget her. By purging his mind of Lori Grimes he could heal the hole that was in his heart. Luckily, Nancy was there to fill that void.

"Lori was a long time ago," Shane minimized.

"So was this," replied Austin. "Whatever happened here happened months ago, I can tell by how the body...how Barb looked. That level of decomposition usually occurs after six months."

"What do you think happen?"

"I don't know yet, but God have mercy on the son of a bitch who caused this. Phillip will hunt them down from here to Valhalla, I don't give a shit how many Walkers are out there."

"Don't I know it," replied Shane, Phillip did have a knack for vengeance. "It will give him something to keep him going. Keep him fighting."

"Damn, straight. Phillip wasn't stupid; he knew that this was probably going to happen. Shane your mom is dead, Henry's mom is dead, Phillip knew his mother was probably dead too. He said 'our tragedy bound us', looks like he was right."

"Then why come, if he didn't even believe that anyone was here. Why put himself through it, for what: confirmation?"

"Partially, Phillip wanted a closing chapter. We realized by Charlotte that Humanity was gone, there were pieces here and there. But the remnants of humanity was tainted, our best chance of survival was getting to a secured spot. This place is still walled; it could be the beginning of a new life."

"So we stay, make this place our permanent home?" Shane's voice revealed that he wasn't sold on the idea.

"Why not? You don't like the interior decorator?" Austin poorly joked, trying his best to extinguish the tension.

"Everyone who lived here died. You add that to the equation, it takes a little of the shine off."

Austin shrugged, "Can't go anywhere without stepping on somewhere someone has died. Besides, this is Phillip's home."

"He told me hated this place," countered Shane. "Place full of bad memories and today he added more. But it's secured and we can make sure it stays that way."

"Thank you," Austin said, without provocation.

"For what?"

"For being there for him, for me, for all of us. You are the heart of this group."

"Shit..." Shane dismissed. "Me, the heart? Maybe the fist but definitely not..."

"But you are, Shane. You are the epoxy that keeps us together, rather you realize it or not."

"I'm not that guy," Shane replied shaking his head, not wanting that role. "You're the leader, you're the one who makes the calls. You carry the heaviest burden out of all of us."

"And I'm going to carry this one as well, alone," replied Austin. In the distance, Austin could hear the sound of the reanimated Cameron banging on the door behind him. "I need to take care of this. Can you go check on the others, make sure they're ok. I'm sure Nancy is spooked, too."

Shane nodded, "I'm just a few feet away and if you want to talk later, I'm here."

Austin nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. Reluctance was all over his face. As Shane left the room, Phillip placed his right hand on the hunting knife strapped to his left waist.

Phillip had little to say, he stood in the room that he slept in over one thousand times. The paint began to chip from time, the bed was stripped bare. However, the photos were still mounted to the walls, covered only with a thin layer of dust. Henry was the most fascinated with the pictures.

"Damn, Phillip, you look young here," said Henry who eyed a younger picture of Phillip.

"I was 8, it was in New York, my dad and I were at Coney Island." Phillip's voice was dead, it was as if he was talking about someone else's life. In many ways it was, that life was over.

"You were a cute kid, what happened?" Henry teased, attempting to cheer up his friend, but it fell flat.

Phillip sank deeper and deeper in his emotion quicksand. The hurt of Cameron's death wasn't what drug him down in the abyss. It was all the people lost on their voyage to this graveyard. Jacob and Stu were both lost on this pointless trip. That guilt destroyed him because he was responsible for their deaths.

"We were too late, weeks too late. It's all my fault, all of this." Phillip turned his head from the group, he could see their faces.

"Did you know that the dead were doing to walk and eat the living? This ain't all on you, we're all in this one."

Nancy wrapped her arms around Phillip waist from behind and buried her face into his back. "You're stuck with us, Phillip. Even through times like this."

Austin took a deep breath as sweat beads collected on his forehead. He knew what he had to do, but regretted it immensely. Thoughts of Cameron stuck out is he lightly grasped the door in anticipation. When Cameron was born, Austin pulled away from both Phillip and the child. Austin believed that he and Phillip's lifestyle wasn't compatible with children. They were assassin and their shelf lives aren't long. Austin knew that one day one or both of them would be killed and he would hate the idea of Cameron being without both parents.

But it would Cameron who die before the both of them. Parents should never have to bury their own children, but tonight they would. Austin took and deep breath as he turned the door knob. He slowly creaked open the large steel door, it scraped against the floor as it opened. The room was already darken, but a faint light filled the panic room revealing the body of Barb and the reanimated Cameron had nestled himself against the corpse of his dead grandmother.

 _Well isn't that interesting,_ thought Austin.

All of Austin's research led him to believe that walkers could not make rational thoughts and they are merely lead by carnal instincts. Most of this was due to his observation but also, Shane's feedback about walkers helped as well. Shane informed Austin years ago that he and his previous group travelled to the CDC in Atlanta and Dr. Jenner explained to him the process of the infection. Austin, being a surgeon trade pulled his data together and extrapolated that once a person had turned, they would never regain their humanity.

But there Cameron was, hugging against the body of his dead grandmother, completely ignoring him. Why? Austin, like every other survivor of the apocalypse, felt like an infant in this new world. Austin wonder could this gesture between this reanimated child be some form of memories. Austin stared from afar as the boy still remained engaged with his grandmother's corpse.

Then it dawned on him. _Was it the Q-15_ , wondered Austin. What Austin knew of Q-15 it bound to the consumer on a cellular level. Though it was used to physically enhance its soldiers it was believed that its effects could be passed to the offsprings of the patients. Cameron was sired by Phillip and Phillip had used the drug since he was a small child. Could the q-15 preserve the child's memory even in this reanimated state.

"Cameron," Austin said in a whisper. The boy's eyes, grey and dead focused on his father. He rose to his feet, his small legs knobby and unstable. The boy's face was gaunt and dry, his faced screamed with desperation. "Cameron," Austin again whispered, craning the boy in closer to him. Without warning a bolt of energy surged through Cameron's body and with that moment the boy aggressively bit Austin in the face.

Austin screams out before driving his pocket knife's blade in the boy's brain, effectively ending his reanimation. Phillip could hear his husband screams, even if his hearing wasn't enhanced. Phillip quickly darted towards the panic room, with Shane, Nancy and Henry in tow. When Phillip entered into the room his heart sank in his chest. Holding his bloody, corpse, Austin stood, his face oozing from the bite delivered by Cameron.

Austin could see the horror in Phillip's eyes and attempt to reach for his husband, but Phillip immediately recoiled fearfully. Phillip's reaction revealed his fear, his childlike fear. Phillip backed away so quickly he bumps into Henry and Shane.

"Phillip," Austin called out but Phillip quickly darted out of the room.

Austin attempted to follow him but Shane stopped him, "No, he's running from _you_. Henry, Nancy, go after him. I'll catch up." Henry and Nancy went after Phillip, leaving Shane and Austin alone.

"What in the holy _fuck_ happened?" asked Shane, he may have not been as shaken as Phillip, but he was he too was hurt.

"I fucked up, Shane," Austin confessed. "I made an amateur mistake."

"I told you! I told you _I_ could help you with this, but you had to be your usual stubborn self. Now, what? Huh? Did you think about us? Who's going to lead us now? How are we going to do without you?" Shane turned his head before colliding his fist with a wall, Shane was even more pissed when he realized that temper tantrum resulted in a cut in his hand.

"I never had this thing figured out, me or Phillip," confessed Austin. "You knew more than we did, Shane. It was _you_ who taught us that we _all_ are infected. You were in the trenches without any fancy battle armor or gadgets. So, Mr. Walsh, you will be fine without me. You had all the tools you needed a long time ago."

"You want _me_ to lead?" Shane was surprised, he was sure he would have selected Phillip.

"Fuck no," replied Austin, who attempted to clean his bleeding face. "You think Phillip would _let_ you lead? Probably not. Besides, I ain't dead yet." Austin attempted to follow Phillip but was stopped.

"No I got it, fix your damn face man. I'll go find him."

Phillip was lost in a home that he spent much of his early years, but it wasn't his home any more. The apocalypse had made this building nothing more than walls and a roof, Phillip began to get dizzy as he struggled through the hall. He quickly vomits against an adjacent wall as he attempted to stabilize his walking. In the distance, he could hear his name being called by Henry and Nancy who searched for him through the large home. Phillip's knee jerk reaction was to retreat, the closest exit was the sunroom that connected to the kitchen. The door was blocked by a make shift barrier secured wooden slab.

"Phillip!" he could feel their voices getting closer, desperate Phillip quickly removes the slab and opens the door. And through the door, seven walkers pour into the kitchen.

Shane caught up with Nancy and Henry who was going room to room looking for Phillip. "Anything?"

"Haven't caught a wink of him," replied Nancy. "How's Austin."

"He's alive, still."

"How did this happen?" asked Henry.

"His exact words: he fucked up." Shane was still infuriated that Austin was bit, "They won't take anymore of us. That's why we gotta find Phil."

"I've never seen him like this," Confessed Henry. "He looked...scared."

"We all are," said Nancy.

"Ugh," groaned Shane after stepping in Phillip's fresh vomit. "We at least we are heading in the right direction." Shane heard a large crash, "This way!"

Shane, Henry, and Nancy darted towards the kitchen, but before they could reach they noticed Phillip backing away, sloppily, tripping over his own feet. "No, no, no!"Screamed Phillip said as he feels and three walkers descend upon him. Three shots fired and immediately the walkers feel to the ground. Shane sharply turned to see a very pregnant Nancy still holding her smoking pink revolver.

"Nice," Shane replied but then noticed four other walkers lurching towards Phillip who balled himself into a fetal position. Henry was the first to charge, quickly slamming his machete's blade into an oncoming walkers face. Shane backed him up, using his red firemen axe to behead two walkers. Using the spiked side of the axe, Shane finished the final walker.

On the floor Phillip remained, crying to himself, "No. No. No. No. No." His face was covered by his hands as shivered wildly. Shane understood what was happening, Phillip was having a panic attack. It never happened in front of Shane, but Phillip confessed to him that he would occasionally have them.

Shane drops the weapon and walks over to his friend, "Come on, Phil, it's ok we're with you---all of us. Austin needs you, he needs you to be strong. And if you can't be strong for you then be strong for him."

But Phillip ignored Shane's words, constantly repeating "no", frantically. This scared Henry and Nancy even more and Shane too. "Come on Phillip, we need you." Shane was becoming frustrated with Phillip, he never seen him be so passive and afraid. Phillip was very secretive, hiding his frailties even from Austin. But Shane had no patience for Phillip or his malfunctions right now; he's the soon-to-be leaders. Leaders don't get to take a break.

"Fuck this, man!" Shane said hastily. "On your fucking feet!" Shane grabbed Phillip by his right arm and forced him to his feet. "Austin is back there DYING! And you want to make this a pity party about you?"

"Leave him alone!" Henry said defensively, Nancy was surprised to see Henry stand up to Shane who typically bullied Henry.

"Stay out of this and stay in a child's place!" Shane had to completely invoke the "Bad Guy" persona for this to work. He wanted to force Phillip out of his depression, to force him to get angry. That fire kept Shane going when _he_ lost everything, he suspected the same would work for Phillip.

"You just going to sit here, like a little bitch and cry because you didn't get what you want? Well guess what Phillip, everyone else's family is _dead_ , what made you think you were specia?."

Phillip's eyes focused on Shane's when he said the word, "special". His hazel irises burned, mustering all his strength, Phillip delivered a crushing right hook that knocked Shane off his feet. Shane had taken many punches from Phillip in the past and vice versa. But never before had Shane been hit by anyone or anything that hard. His jaw went numb, requiring him to reset it manually. Phillip robotically walks over Shane exiting the kitchen.

Henry held in his chuckle, "I told you to leave him alone."

As Phillip walked through the house he aggressively collided his fist against the walls. Each time he struck a wall he struck it harder than the last. By the time he made it back to the panic room, his right fist was cracked and bloodied. Austin had taken the initiative to wrap the bodies of Phillip's mother, Barbara and their son Cameron in white sheets. He covered the bite mark on his left cheek with a large bandage that was wet with fresh blood.

Phillip's heart plummeted through his stomach; he approached Austin and laid his hand on his bandaged face. "How did this happen to you?"

"I was weak, but you can't be. You can't make the same mistake I made, Phillip. You're all they have left."'

"I can't do this, I'm not _you_. I'm not a leader," argued Phillip. "I could barely lead myself."

"Well that's horeshit," replied Austin. "I have come across many soldiers, Phillip Atkins-Marco but one thing I know, there isn't a soul on this planet that can do what you can. You think _I_ was the leader? You think _you're_ not ready? I've been struggling to keep up with you since I met you, Phillip. Do you remember when we first met?"

Flashes of their initially meeting burned in Phillips mind, "You punched me in the stomach."

"You shot me in the face with a paintball gun," countered Austin.

"You started it," Phillip placed his back against the adjacent wall; he mistakenly steps on his mother's body. The reality hit him like a bullet, "What am I going to do?"

"You're going to keep these people safe. You're going to protect this place. And you are going to kill every son of a bitch who had _any_ to do with what happened here. But before you can do the latter, you got to make sure that we are safe here."

Austin was able to talk Phillip back from the ledge, or at least he thought he did. Austin suggested burying the family in the rose garden, Phillip had no input, he was still shellshocked by the day's events. With the assistance of Henry and Shane, Austin dug two deep graves for his family.

Nancy rubbed her stomach nervously at the sight of the small boy's wrapped in a white sheet that was stained with dark blood from Austin puncturing his brain. She felt an ominous force stalking her; she just didn't know how to express it. Shane could sense her anxiety and grabbed her hand lovingly.

"Want to excuse yourself from all of this?" Shane asked Nancy, Sensing her rising nerves.

"No, we need to be here, for them," replied Nancy, grasping on to Shane's hand.

Phillip's ears perked with curiosity when he heard the roar of engines in the background. Only Phillip and Buster, the large mastiff could hear the engines, due to their enhanced hearing. Austin could somewhat hear the rumbling, but he wasn't as enhanced by Q-15 as Phillip. No matter, Phillip's widened eyes told the story.

"Phil?" Austin tried to get Phillip's attention but it was too late. Phillip quickly darts away from the group, running towards the approaching sounds. Phillip could now smell the exhaust fumes as he raced towards the gates of the large estates. Buster, quickly chased behind Phillip, as did Austin and Shane.

In the horizon, Phillip could see three slowly approaching motorcycles. Without warning, Phillip immediately removed both of his magnums that sat at his waist and began to fire. The bullets collided mercilessly against the flesh of the bikers. Before they could return fire, another chain of bullets were released by Phillip.

Austin was ahead of Shane, but the Sheriff did his best to keep up. Once the shots were fired, both men removed their guns in preparation of a battle. When the two men made it to the gates they found the body of three men, riddle with bullets and two motorcycles. "God damn you, Phillip," Austin said under his breath.

One of the men managed to survive the attack, he lay on the grassy earth, coughing up globs of blood. His blue bandana that was wrapped around his neck was stained with blood. His skin went gray as he desperately gasped for air. Shane aggressively grabs that man and places the gun against his temple.

"Where's your people Who are you with!" the man struggled to answer, chocking on his own plasma. "Answer me!"

Before his eyes went black, fading into death, the man could only say one word, "Negan..."

Phillip was nowhere to be found. He had taken one of the motorcycles and was in hot pursuit of the bikers who attacked his home. He would have his vengeance.


	22. Episode 4, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever wondered how Shane became an asshole? Well here's the tale...

**The Walking Dead: -6**  
Episode Four: **... And Then There Were Three**  
Part 4: "Family"  
  


**Shane** **'s** **POV Part 1**

 

Shane was in the home alone, both Phillip and Henry had paired off leaving the former cop to inspect his wound. Much like how Phillip predicted, Shane's healing had accelerated due to the exposure to Q-15 via a transfusion. The bullet wound was still open but the swelling had completely subsided and to new tissue was beginning to form.

"We'll I'll be god damned," Shane said in awe. One thing Shane wanted to test was exactly how physically strong he was. In his little tussle with Rick, Shane could have easily over powered him. Much of the wrestling was for Shane's amusement. Shane had no intention on killing Rick in that moment, Rick however did want to end Shane. Shane knew it, he could see it in Rick's eyes. Rick deeply hated Shane in way that Shane could have never expected.

Even back at the farm, in that very moment when Rick slammed that knife into Shane's chest, Rick didn't possess such ire. Shane noticed something else about his old friend; there was wildness in his eyes. The Rick he fought earlier wasn't the Rick he knew. This _Rick_ was unbridled, dark, and homicidal. Rick tried to drive a wooden shard in Shane's throat. Had a Shane been just a second slower he _would_ be dead, Q-15 or not.

He didn't know what to make of Rick at this moment. Shane somewhat enjoyed the fight Rick more than he hated it. And deep inside, under all that bad blood, a part of Shane just wanted to see Rick again. Shane had long accepted his sins with Lori. Now with her being gone and Nancy Shane figured he was a being punished again.

 _When does this shit end, man,_ thought Shane as he further inspected his wound in the floor level rest room. Shane could hear the front door open and he quickly pulled down his camo thermal and headed towards the door. Shane kept his right hand lightly on the handle of the gun that rested at his waist. Shane was relieved when he noticed Henry enter.

"You seen Phillip?" asked Shane as Henry enters.

"Good morning to you to Shane, I'm doing well, how about you," replied the teen as he headed towards the stairs.

"Hey, drop the fucking sarcasm before I yank you off those stairs," threatened Shane. "Now answer the question."

"No, Shane, did you even try the radio?" replied the over-grown, boy.

Shane had never before heard Henry sass anyone, let alone him. Something was the matter; Henry's body language was off. Shane inspected his face and then quickly inhaled, before letting out a disappointed scoff. "You getting _high_ , Henry?" Shane close the distanced between himself and Henry, and although the boy had three inches of height he still recoiled.

But as he shrunk himself in anticipation of a beating, something dawned on him. He didn't have to be afraid of anyone anymore. Henry straightened his form and defiantly replied, "So."

" 'So?'" Shane echoed, outraged that Henry would show him such disrespect Shane had say it again just to be sure. Shane marched closer to Henry, still echo the word "so", intensifying with rage the closer he got to the boy. Shane snatched Henry by the color and slammed him to the wall. Both men glared deeply into each others eyes, the tension and stress had all finally peaked.

"Get off me," replied Henry, his voice monotone and his eyes still locked with Shane.

" _Get_ me of off you," his grip tightening, Shane had grown weary of Henry's slick mouth. "You think you're the only person barely hanging in there?"

"Shane you're not my dad, you're not even my sister's baby daddy," replied Henry smugly to which Shane interrupts by slapping the teen with full force. Realizing he has split the boy's lip Shane immediately regrets the action. Henry pushes Shane back before running up the stairs.

"Shit!" Shane hisses to himself, Shane had always had a close relationship with Henry and it was beginning to dissolve right before his eyes. Henry, like Phillip, did a great job of hiding their true feelings. Shane figured the pressures of Alexandria coupled with his group's recent losses was just too much for Henry. Shane often time would forget he was only 14.

Before Shane could attempt to apologize to Henry he heard a stiff knock at the door. After opening the heavy oak door it revealed Holly holding a wicker basket full of biscuits. The expression on her face was warm and inviting; Shane couldn't help but smile back.

"I figured you guys could use this, I baked a few items for you and your friends. There is also some soap, tooth brushes, hairbushes..."

"Thank you," Shane interrupts, reaching for and grabbing the basket. Shane felt the warmth of her hands touch his, in a flash Holly became Nancy. The mild resemblence turns into a full on shape shift, Holly's hair, her clothes, down to her smell turned into Nancy. Shane quickly blinked his eyes, hoping that it would trigger a refresh of his brain but to no avail.

Nancy could sense Shane's body language change, "Is there something the matter."

"No, not at all, are you kidding, everything is great," lied Shane. "I'm just really tired is all."

"Well I don't want to keep you," replied Holly. "This is just a token of my gratitude, our gratitude. I hope I'm not bothering you."

Holly attempted to leave the porch but Shane reached for her shoulder, "Wait. It's just, Henry, the boy. He's really stressed right now – hell, we all are. He lost someone close, _we_ lost someone close. His sister. She died two days ago, the same day Phillip's husband died. We haven't really dealt with either of those deaths, haven't really gotten an opportunity to."

Holly placed her hand on Shane's shoulder, "We've all lost someone, some of us have lost everyone. The first step of healing is opening up."

Shane couldn't help but chuckle, that's what Phillip would say, matter of fact that's _exactly_ what Phillip said after the farm. When Shane opened up to Phillip about Lori, Carl, and Rick he was able to heal. He figured that he might as well try. "How much time do you have?"

"All the time in the world," Holly promised.

***

 _All Lives Matter_... But in Shane's world, one life mattered the most, Celine. Shane was 24 years old and was wrapping up his training with Sherriff Dooley. Rick, Shane's childhood friend had finished his training already. Though historically Shane always outperformed Rick, once the two men entered the work force, Rick became the standout. Rick was partnered with another Deputy and was working the beat. Shane had some catching up to do.

But not just catching up in his professional life but also in his personal life. Rick was already married and raising his first child. When Rick met Lori and the two married the dynamics of Rick and Shane's relationship changed. Shane wasn't sure at this point if it had changed for the worse.

While joining the police help ground the already rather centered Grimes, it had the reverse effect on Shane. Shane was a play boy and his new status of deputy had only inflated his already girthy ego. Shane couldn't wait until his training was over so he could tear a new ass hole into crime.

Shane couldn't keep his mind off Celine, using his Black Berry phone he scrolled through Celine's MySpace page, eyeing her pictures. Everything about celine attracted Shane to her, to her bouncy California blonde hair, to her naturally tan peaches and cream skin. She was _the one_. shane was just too scared to give her a ring. He already purchased it, the small princess cut diamond ring sat in Shane's pocket hidden within a navy velvet box. But Shane wasn't ready for this level of a commitment, but he knew Celine was the one.

"Are you even paying attention, Chicken-Dick?" asked Sherrif Dooley.

"Yes, sir, I was just checking my phone," replied shane.

"Well, pay attention to the road, aren't you driving!" chastised sheriff Dooley, his whisker-like grey mustache tickling his bottom lip with each word. He was rounder, mostly due to age, but you can tell a couple a decades ago that Sherrif Dooley was an ass-kicking machine. He was tough on Shane because he could see the potential for Shane, more than that, he saw himself in Shane. "We give tickets and kick asses for people texting and driving and you think you can put my life at risk so you can make googlely eyes at some bird?"

"With all due respect, she's not ' _some bird_ '," Shane rarely got out of line with Dooley, but he decided to take a stand for Celine. "She's the woman I'm going to marry."

"Is that so," replied Dooley. "Well if you get the balls to tell her, let me know."

 _I'm on my way home, ma. Be there in 30 min._ Jamal texted his mother as he headed towards Atlanta. Jamal decided to accept a ride from his cousin Lamar, Jamal had no idea that he would also be riding with Lamar's friend. The maroon 1999 Cadillac Deville reeked of marijuana smoke and testorome. 50 Cent's "Candy Shop" played as Lamar and the other three young man plowed through the King's County country road. Jamal was very uncomfortable with the company his cousin kept, but he had to get back to the dorm before 9pm. He had curfew and the 19 year old didn't want to bump heads with the U of Atlanta football coach.

Jamal raked his nails against his crew cut scalp, "Nigga, it's almost _8:30_! I'm going to be so fucking late!"

"Nigga, calm down, school boy," taunted Lamar. "We only 40 miles out. Can't you give them a call and let them know you would be late."

"Dude! I'm trying to start this year, fucking around with you I will riding the bench," Jamal was heavily pissed. "All I needed was a ride, nigga you picked up half the block to ride too."

"My dude, I _know_ you ain't talking to me, shorty," one of Lamar's passengers said.

"Nigga I'm 6'3, _shorty_ ?" said Jamal replied. Red and blue lights from the tailing police squad car behind them.

" _Fuck man_ ," winced Lamar. "Shit, act cool!"

" _Act?_ You aint hot is you?" replied Jamal. "Nigga you ain't got drugs on you?" Jamal's silence answered the question, "Fuck man. I'm not trying to get locked up."

"Just act fucking cool, dog," Shawn replied. Shawn was one of Lamar's foot soldier, he was large and round with a dark colored du-rag wrapped around his head. There was coldness in his dark eyes that matched the blackness in his chest. Shawn was the muscle Jamall needed to help him push drugs in Atlanta. Shawn was only twenty-two but he had already taken three lives with gun violence as evidence by the three tattooed tear drops on his left cheek.

"You want me to go handle it?" asked Shane.

"Nah, Chicken-Dick, I got this, let me show you how it's done," Dooley said, cockily.

Sherrif Dooley exited the squad car and headed towards the Cadillac. Shane was taught during training that wherever his partner went, he went. Sheriff Dooley was immediately violating one of the sacred rules. Shane couldn't hear exactly what was being said between Dooley and the occupants, but Shane could tell that it was getting aggressive quickly. Shane knew that Sherriff Dooley had a tendency to be cocky, but Shane was becoming more nervous.

"You old son-of-a-bitch, what are you doing?" thought Shane.

"ALL OF YOU, OUT OF THE VEHICLE, AND DO IS SLOWLY AND _POLITELY_!" Dooley demanded. Dooley then gestured for Shane to exit the squad car.

"We didn't do shit!" moaned Lamar.

"Shut the fuck up, before I put a hole in your afro, Darlin'. Now get your ass out of the car! " said Dooley, Shane could hear this clearly as he attempted to exit the vehicle. Sheriff Dooley quickly grab his radio, hoisted on his chest, "It's Dooley, I'm going to need backup her out in Cobblestone Point here on Broome and Maine. I have four suspects, black males, 18-25."

Sheriff Dooley knew he said the magic words to dispatch; he quickly turns to Shane and grimaced at him. "Move your ass, Walsh!" Shane quickly fumbled with his safety belt that knocked off his Sheriff hat. Shane quickly collected himself as he exited the vehicle, Shane wanted to strut towards vehicle. The pompous, self centered nature in Shane was always his greatest weakness. But before Shane could reach the vehicle, he could hear the explosion bullets escape the Cadillac. The bullets collided with Sherriff Dooley knocking him to the ground, killing him instantly. Shane saw Sheriff's Dooley's eyes went vacant as blood collected at his lips.

Shane had little experience; both he and Rick only had college and six month sheriff training to fall back on. Shane had never served in the military, never worked as a beat cop, never even worked as a security guard. Shane was only six weeks into his eight week on-site training with King's County Sheriff Department. immediately removed his service weapon and fired a chain of bullets into the Cadillac. Smashing windows, bullets ripped through the tires, crushing the rims of the vehicle. Shane immediately radios dispatch, "We got an officer down! This is Deputy Walsh! We have an officer down at the intersection of Maine and Broome."

The investigation didn't take too long, it was revealed that Shawn was the person who murdered Sherriff Dooley. Also, 40 ounces of cocaine was retrieved from the vehicle, hidden under a torn piece of carpet. It was a black swan event; due to the Dooley's death and Shane's intervention, he was regarded as a hero. With this one dark event, Walsh raced up the food chain in the Kings county sheriff department. He was even able to select a new partner, he selected Rick.

It wasn't a week after the events when Shane got an unexpected guest. Shane had just got to the precinct when he was told he had a visitor. When he entered the lobby he saw an older, African American female holding a manila folder. He assumed she was a lawyer, her face though lovely, was very stern.

"You're him," she finally said as Shane approached.

"I guess," replied Shane cockily. "And you are?"

"I'm Victoria Jordan, my son was Jamal Jordan, the child you murdered."

"Excuse me," the words " _murdered_ " cut into Shane deep, deeper than he even realized. "I didn't murder nobody, if you are referring to the _murder_ of Officer Dooley then I _may_ know what you're talking about. One of _our_ officers was killed, a good man."

"Shawn Billups killed Sherriff Dooley, _not my son_ ," Vitoria countered defensively. "He was just taking a ride from his cousin. Lamar may have been troubled, but he wasn't a murderer either, he didn't survive the trip, either. No other gun besides the gun used by Billiups, whom you also killed."

"You know, I see what you're trying to do, missy. You think you can come in here, bring up your _angel_ of a son and you expect what, crocodile tears? If your son was so innocent, then maybe he should have selected a better ride," Shane voice was cross and hostile.

"Really, Deputy Shane Walsh," Victoria replied, her eyes cutting deep into Shane's. "I guess in your world, facts don't matter. A car full a black men, their lives don't matter."

"Lady don't you march in here play the fucking race card, I didn't know what color those men were. I know one of them shot my partner, I did what I had to do."

Victoria nodded as she approached Shane and she slams the manila folder on Shane's chest. "I wanted to show you what you robbed the world of." She had no other words for Shane, she slowly exited the building.

Shane didn't immediately look into the envelop, mainly because he didn't want Vitoria to catch him. He also knew that very public exchange in the middle of the precinct lobby was viewed by his fellow officers. Shane waited until he was in the lock room alone before opening the envelop, enclosed was a 9 by 6 photograph of a smiling Jamal. Jamal was dressed in his maroon and gold cap and gown, his pride radiating in that image. Also with that large image were other smaller Polaroid's of Jamal taking part of his High School food drive as well as attending the University of Atlanta's debate team. Both Shane and Rick attended the University as well, Jamal wasn't a criminal, he was just a kid getting a ride home. Along with photos was a letter that said:

" _Dear Mr. Jordan,_

_We are thrilled to welcome you to Fall 2003 semester at Dartmouth College's Engineer Program. Our decision was based not only on your impressive ACT scores but as well as your multiple endorsements by community leaders and scholars alike...."_

Shane couldn't read another word before breaking down, a spear pierced his soul and the twenty-four year old officers erupted into tears. Angrily Shane slammed his fist against the metal lockers screaming profanities. This wasn't fair, none of it. _Would it always be this way? Are these the kind of decisions I'm going to have to make?_ Shane was unsure if he could bear this weight.

"You ok, Shane?" a voice said which startled Shane out of his rage. Shane turned around to see rick, smooth faced wearing his uniform holding his gym bag. "Come on man, talk to me."

"I'm good, Rick," Shane quickly wiping the tears from his eyes and forcing a chuckle. "You know me, Rick. I'm Teflon."

"You don't need to be, Shane," Rick said before placing his hand on Shane's shoulder. "You can hurt, you can even be weak. That's why I'm here."

Shane , not wanting to reveal his weakness dismissed the gesture. "Come on rick, I'm not some pussy. I can stand alone."

Rick knew how defensive Shane could be so he quickly extinguished his concerns. "Hey, hey, I know, Shane. All I'm saying is I'm here."

"Thanks, man," replied Shane, his eyes focused on the floor, too embarrassed to look at rick.

"Hey, we're family."

After Celine died in the car accident, Shane became colder. He externalized his rage and it was evident in everything he did. Well before the Walkers appeared, Shane had a hole in his heart, they just help it expand.

***


	23. "No Way Out" Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and Gents, "No Way Out."

****The Walking Dead: -6****  
Episode Five:  ****No Way Out****  
Part 1: "Jericho"

 

 

 

“What are you going to do after this?” asked Spencer as he and Phillip, now both dressed, prepared to exit the PYTHON after their tryst.

Cynically Phillip replies, “You’re confident there’s going to be an _‘after this_ ’?”

Spencer shrugs, “Don’t you?”

“Well I don’t intend to die, no matter what,” Phillip replied arrogantly as he tightened his black boots.

“Why is that, because you’re so cool?” Spencer’s voice was patronizing, but Phillip ignored this gesture. Phillip was pretty much done with Spencer. Phillip’s main focus was his boots.

“No, because I don’t live here, consider me a _cross-over guest star_. Did George or Weezy die when they costarred on _Fresh Prince of Bel-Air_? _Nope_!” Phillip eyes were still lacing his boots but his attention was stolen by Spencer’s next statement.

Spencer erased the space between the two , wrapping his arms around Phillip kissing his neck,“That doesn’t count, that was the final episode of _Fresh Prince of Bel Air_. It could be considered cannon if they died in the Fresh Prince house.”

Phillip usually dated men 10 to 15 years older than him so very few of them got his millennial, 90’s references. So Spencer not only catching his reference but also using the term “cannon” got Phillip’s attention. Phillip relaxed his body and absorbed Spencer’s hug, “Maybe _head cannon_. Point is I don’t plan to end my life in your community, I’m just visiting.”

“People die on vacation all the time,” replied Spencer, his voice a slight whisper.

“ _Mmm_ , that was dark,” teased Phillip. “Who knew you had it in you.”

Spencer tighten his grip, “You would be surprised what I have in me.”

_No I won’t,_ thought Phillip. He knew Spencer was getting too attached. Hell, _Phillip_ was getting too attached. Phillip knew Spencer was like daylilies; pretty to look at but a brief shelf life. Last thing Phillip needed was more heartache. “There isn’t going to be an ‘ _us’_ after this, Spencer. Even if there is an _after this_. I’m going to leave Alexandria, my gut is telling me something bad is coming. It hasn’t arrived just yet, but it’s coming.”

Spencer wanted to avoid Phillip’s negativity. He wanted to bask in the warmth of their connected skin. The PYTHON was sound proof, so the growls of the walkers at the gates were all muted. Spencer felt safe in this embrace, he craved security and he believed he found it with Phillip.

Spencer inhaled Phillip’s skin before pivoting his focus to the windows. “Is that Holly?” Spencer asked, while peering through the almost opaque, tinted windows of the vehicle. Spencer tightened his eyes as he looked closer, “It _is_ Holly and isn’t that your friend with her, Shane?”

“Yes it is,” Phillip said through gritted teeth. Phillip had just talked to Shane about parading around with Nancy’s doppelganger throughout the community. But like with many things, Shane did whatever he wanted. A part of Phillip wanted to confront Shane for moving on so fast from Nancy. Phillip could hear Spencer’s heart beat through his clothes and it hit him like a gong: His hypocrisy.

Phillip never thought about the human filth that he had become since arriving in Alexandria. He hadn’t given himself one moment to morn his mother, son, or Austin. Here he was laying with Spencer, Phillip’s skinned began to contract at the awful realization. Phillip sharply moves away from Spencer, the speed caught Monroe off guard.

“Do I smell bad or something?” asked Spencer.

_“_ You put on cologne before you got here, you smell perfectly fine. We should probably catch up with them, if we greet them, it will minimize suspicion.” Phillip quickly scanned Spencer over to make sure he was dressed appropriately.

Spencer was unsure how to feel, Phillip was again being hot and cold. However this didn’t feel like a game, Phillip’s body language seemed all of a sudden antsy. “You seem like you want to hide this more than I do.”

“You’re right, I do,” replied Phillip before he quickly activated the suicide passenger door. “Hey Shane, Holly, wait up!” Phillip quickly darts towards the couple leaving Spencer in the Humvee alone, dazed.

Spencer had never grown close to any of his same-sex partner, he was usually the one breaking things off abruptly and sometimes harshly. The tables had turned and Spencer was struggling with the rejection. The rejection had a profound effect on Spencer, it motivated him.

“It’s holly, right?” Phillip asked as he reached for her hand to which she gladly shook. “I’m sorry, I’m not a morning person, after I drink a ton of vodka. Sorry about the cunty introduction.”

Holly’s eyes expanded at the vulgarness of Phillip’s tone, “You have a foul- _fucking_ mouth; I think I like you.”

Phillip inspected her east coast accent, “Philly?”

“Pittsburg, actually. Let me guess, New Jersey?” replied Holly.

“Bite your tongue!” replied Phillip, replying with a charming grin but still rather offended.

“Sorry, New York City, you do realize your accents are the same right?” Holly innocently taunted.

“Ok I was starting to like you, now we have to fight,” Phillip was only half-joking. Before things could descend into complete awkwardness, Spencer arrived to the scene.

“Morning Spencer, how’s the wall?” asked Holly.

Spencer shrugs, “Surrounded by those things. I mean I tried to grapple over them but it didn’t end well.”

“That was stupid,” added Phillip. “You could have been gutted like a catfish out there. Henry told me _all_ about it. Something about you trying shimmy across a tight rope across god knows how many walkers. Really smart.”

Spencer cut his eyes at Phillip, he didn’t like him diminishing him in front of Holly. Spencer and Holly once were intimate and he was embarrassed at Phillip busting his balls. “I don’t believe you were there. At least I’m trying to do something for this community.”

“Yeah, you’re a big help,” Phillip pivoted his body slightly away from Spencer and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Shane’s right eyebrow rose, _what the hell was ** **that**** all about_. Shane was very analytical, this stems from his time as an officer. Why the hell would Phillip care one way or another if Spencer, a stranger, lived or died? Phillip appeared strangely more invested than he should have been. he wasn’t initially suspicious of the nature of Spencer and Phillip’s meeting. However he was beginning to wonder.

“What the hell were you two doing in there?” Shane bluntly asked.

Phillip had the urge to shoot Shane in the kneecap, but held in those urges. As analytical Shane was he paled in comparison to Phillip. “This Hollister-wearing, jizz stain decided he needed to personally look over our vehicle. Something about ‘ _his mom runs the place’_. The kid comes off a total douche, for the record.” Phillip released his barrage of insults as if Spencer wasn’t inches from him.

Spencer didn’t know how to take it, was it all for pretend? How much of what Phillip was saying was rooted in truth? Spencer had a very sensitive ego and he couldn’t take anymore of what Phillip’s antagonizing. Spencer pointed his finger hostilely at Phillip, “You need to learn some respect.”

“From _you_ , not bloody-likely,” replied Phillip with a faux cockney accent.

“I’d put that finger away if I were you, Spencer, you’re gonna lose it,” Shane replied with a small chuckle. “He’s tiny but fierce, like a raccoon or an alley cat.”

Disgusted by the gross comparisons, Phillip said, “You can stop helping me, Shane.”

“Point is, he’ll break you down, Spencer,” Shane said affirmatively. “Just trying to warn you.”

“Oh he knows,” replied Phillip. “I’m heading inside, tell Henry to walk the dog for me”

As Phillip begins to walk away from the group to which Shane said, “Wait up, there’s something Henry wanted me to tell you.” Shane briskly jogged to where Phillip stood with a smug smirk on his face. When Shane reached Phillip he whispers in his ear, “That was a really convincing performance, your _girlfriend_ needs to work on his acting.”

Phillip replies with a nasty scowl, refusing to validate Shane’s words but not denying them. Shane inspected Phillip’s reaction, he got all the confirmation he needed. “Look at you, being all sanctimonious and your fucking the first guy you come across. Austin’s body isn’t even cold yet.”

The words cut into Phillip’s gut because they were absolutely true. As soon as Phillip arrived to Alexandria he immediately went after Aaron. Granted his motivation was to find out more about Alexandria, he also enjoyed the attention Aaron showered on him. Aaron was business, Spencer was pleasure. Phillip went to his go-to coping mechanism – sex.

It had been that way since he was a teen. Shane knew this; Phillip shared some of his darkest secrets with Shane. Secrets he never shared with Austin. Shane knew Phillip’s weak spots and he would not let Phillip’s hypocrisy slide.

“You are lucky we are in public,” replied Phillip through gritted teeth.

“I’m lucky, I will kick your ass over Austin – over _disrespecting_ him!” Shane’s voice still low but the intensity as well as a mist of saliva slammed against Phillip’s ear.

“You wanna say that to me inside of the house?” challenged Phillip through a whispering smile, still hiding their conversation from Spencer and Holly who watched on. “I will wear your hillbilly-ass out.”

Shane looked Phillip up and down, scoffing at him.“I’ll race you there, _pussy_!” Shane says to Phillip in an angry whisper. He then turns to Holly and Spencer and smiles and waves, “Holly, thanks for the stuff! We’ll catch up later today – yeah? _Spencer,_ catch you later, I’m sure.”

Both men headed towards the house, planning on kicking the other’s ass.  
  


***

Carl!” Rick called out, approaching his son with Michonne in tow. Carl was spending a lot of time with Henry and rick was becoming more suspicious of the boy. Henry was aligned with Shane, thus he was considered a threat.

“Yeah, Dad?” replied Carl, arms folded.

“I’m going to need you to pick up your sister, she’s with Jessie and I would prefer her to be with you.” Rick’s voice was straight to the point, trying his best to conceal his suspicion of Henry. Little did he know both Shane and Phillip were approaching.

“Yeah, Carl, why don’t you go get that little gal,” replied Shane. “I haven’t gotten a chance to hold her, _today._ ”

Rick redirected his energy immediately to Shane, “I’ve already told you once, stay the hell away from _my_ family. Do you want me to finish what I started at Herschel’s farm?”

“Of course I would, Rick,” Shane replied, his body tensing up preparing to brawl again with Rick. But Shane also noticed something else, more and more people appeared in the street intersection where Rick, Shane, Michonne, and co. stood. Shane wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or what, but Alexandrians Shane had never met before all seemed to show up.

_Well, this is interesting,_ thought Shane. Why were all these strangers here? Where they here for his group, had Rick gathered a lynch mob for Shane, Henry and Phillip. Phillip was also aware of the growing mob, but in classic Phillip form, he refused to allow them to see him sweat. Phillip’s hazel eyes tighten when he saw Spencer arrive with Carter.

“Rick,” Carter said with an announcer’s flair, “today is judgment day.” The crowd then revealed to be arm, each of them retrieving their handguns, some even armed with rifles all pointed at Rick, Shane, Henry, Carl, Phillip, and Michonne.

Rick cocked his head to the right, “Is that so. For who?”

“For you, _Rick_ and anyone who stands with you! See, before your group arrived we had no problems. Sure as hell didn’t have six hundred dead things at our gates.”

“What is this?” Deanna asked, pushing her way through the crowd of Alexandrians until she made it to the center. Her face revealed her shock when she realized Spencer was a part of this coup. “ _Spencer,_ what the hell are you doing?”

“Picking a side, mom,” replied Spencer who didn’t have the guts to look into his mother’s eyes after admitting to his treachery. “Rick got us in this mess, we are fighting each other over food, and we are trapped like rats in a maze because of _him_!”

“You done blaming me for all your problems, _boy_ ,” replied Rick.

“Simple as this, Rick,” began Carter confidently, “You can either take a bullet to the head or we can feed you to those creatures out there. You decide.”

“Wait a fucking minute,” demanded Shane, “If anyone is going to take Rick Grimes out,” Shane said as he removed his pistol and quickly pointed at Rick, “It’s going to be me.” Rick didn’t flinch, his eyes only intensified when he locked eyes with Shane. Rick knew that look, that was the same look Shane gave Rick at in the forest back near Herschel’s farm. “Bad day for you, huh, Grimes.”

Carter was suspicious of Shane, but he did remember being told that Rick attempted to murder Shane while he was unconscious. “Well, Rick, it looks like you make enemies everywhere you go.”

“You have no idea,” replied Shane to Carter, his eyes still locked with Rick and his gun still pointed at Rick as well.

“No! You can’t do this, Shane,” begged Carl who placed himself between Rick and Shane’s gun.

“Move, Carl,” demanded Rick, he didn’t want his son to be potentially hit by a stray bullet.

“Did you come back for this, huh?” said Carl, tears streaming down his freckled face before shoving Shane, but his body remain still. “If what you came to do was kill my dad, then you should have stayed dead!”

The words were like a punch, but Shane did not change his posture, the gun remained pointed. Through his teeth, he replied with the same tone and cadence as Rick, “Move, Carl.”

Phillip knew he would need to step in before things really went to shit, “You’re a really _flashy man_ , Carter. It is _Carter_ , right?”

“You’re Phillip, I’ve been told about you. You don’t care for this piece of shit, Rick either.”

“Oh not at all, far as I’m concerned, do whatever you need to, but just leave my people out of it.”

“I don’t think I can,” replied Carter. “Your friend Shane looks really eager to kill Rick, I’m really eager to watch.”

“I’m all for regime changes, but can we do it without getting bloody,” replied Phillip. “I mean killing people is really _flashy_ , but not the best way to keep your people in line.”

Rick found Phillip’s use of the word “flashy” suspicious, Carter was many things but “flashy” wasn’t one of them. Rick was wondering what Phillip had up his sleeve.

“There will be none of this,” demanded Deanna. “I am the leader of this community and I will be god _damned_ if I let you or anyone tear it apart!”

A crack of a fire exploded and the bullet knocked Deanna off her feet. Carter’s revolver smoked and a dark smile emerged on his face. “I think we’re all done listening to you, _too_.”

“Mother!” called out Spencer but before he could react, Carter pointed the gun to Spencer’s temple.

“Do you want to die, too?” Carter voice had grown dark as he further embraced his inner villain. “Time to cut the apron string, Spencer.”

Phillip had seen enough, “Flashy, flashy, man,” Phillip said under his breath. Shane’s eyes darted to Phillip and both men gave each other a quick but faint nod. Phillip quickly removes a flash bang grenade that he kept always hidden in his pocket. He shut his eyes as did Shane; they knew what was going to happen next. Phillip casually dropped the flash bang on the ground and the light blinded not only Carter and his group but Rick’s as well. Henry was too hit by the flash of the grenade. Buster, the large mastiff whimpered and ran away from the blast.

Phillip quickly counted to three before opening his eyes to ensure he wouldn’t receive any of the flash. When he opened his eyes, he immediately removed both of his Berettas from their holsters and began firing at Carter’s militia. Phillip’s accuracy was poor at best, but it gave Shane enough time to grab Carl and fire towards Carter as well. Phillip noticed that Henry was struggling to see, stun by the flashbang. Phillip grabs the lanky teen by his shirt and continued to fire bullets towards Carter as he led him away from the battle.

Bullets from both parties began to streak across the day sky. Phillip and Shane were lucky enough to still have their vision intact. “There!” Shane called out pointing to the white van parked in the Alexandrian road. Still holding Carl, Shane darted towards the vehicle for cover. Henry, now recovering from the flash, grabbed Deanna and with the assistance of Phillip, they joined Carl and Shane.

Rick, however, was left behind; still stun by the flash reflexively removed his gun and began to fire, backing away from the crowd. “Carl! Carl!” rick called out, blinded and desperate. Rick felt the force of some one pulling him and his natural reaction was to resist.

“It’s me,” replied a deep, female voice. It was Michonne.

“I gotta find Carl,” replied Rick matter of factly.

“He’s with Shane, I saw him and his group head towards the brownstone.”

Rick quickly shoots back, “We gotta find them, we gotta stop them!”

“Right now we have Carter to worry about. It looked like Shane’s group may have helped us,” Michonne was reluctant to give Shane’s group any credit, but she saw just as well as Rick what happened.

“We gotta find Carl, Michonne,” replied Rick desperately. “It’s only a matter of time before one of those bullets hit the wrong target.”

“Then let’s make sure _our_ bullets hit theirs,” replied Michonne. “We split up, I’m going to head to the brownstone. See if Carl double backs at Erwin’s place, that is where Shane’s people are holed up. But we have to go, now!”

“Then let’s move!” The two seperates and Rick heads towards Shane’s new residence.

***

Carl’s vision returned and he realized that he along with Shane’s group were taking cover behind the van. He could hear the whiz of bullet slam and pop against the pavement. “Where’s my dad?!” Carl asked but the group remained quite. “Where is my dad?!” Carl’s voice now more assertive.

“Shhhhhhhh” replied Phillip. “Don’t you know how to _not_ get killed?”

“They are after my dad, not us!” replied Carl. “And I don’t have to listen to _you_.”

“Oh my god, Shane will you put a sock in this kids mouth. Now is not the time for him to be an annoying teenager.” Phillip didn’t know much about Carl, but he knew if he kept it up, he would get them all killed. “Maybe they just wanted your dad but I’m sure I shot enough of them to merit a Death Certificate as well.”

“Carl we are just taking a break. Is your sister at the house?” asked Shane. Carl was mute; he didn’t trust anyone he was with, not even Shane anymore. “ _CARL!!!”_ yelled Shane.

“Yes! _Why_?” Carl’s trust in Shane was beginning to wane.

“Because that’s where we’re headed,” replied Shane as more bullets sped past them.

Carl noticed his father had managed to hide behind the side of a house. Rick peaked his blue eyes around the corner to assess the threat level. Rick had two things on his mind, number one: where was Carl? Number 2: Where was Shane? Rick was stunned by the blast of the grenade and did not observe Shane and Phillip aid him. As far as Rick knew, Shane was still an enemy.“Kill them! All of them” screamed Carter, completely intoxicated by rage and power. Bullet ricocheted over the brick house, bursting the corners into orange dust. Rick quickly ducked avoiding the on-coming bullets. Rick flatted his body as he reloaded his magnums in preparation for battle.

“Dad!” Carl cried out as Carter troops descended on Rick, still blasting their weapons. In desperation Carl grabbed Shane’s shirt, “Do you see this?!”

“Yeah, I do,” Shane replied hastily.

“Then help him!” Carl demanded.

“I am,” Shane said as he too, reloaded. Shane scanned the streets; Shane noticed that the opposing group consisted of roughly fifteen heavily armed people pursuing Rick. Shane suspected that the group aren’t exactly sure what happened or who used a flash bang. Shane was going to take advantage of the confusion.

“Where’s Spencer,” Deanna called out, blood collecting near her waist. “You have to help him.”

“Did you notice your son was a part of this?” replied Phillip.

Deanna had lost her son Aiden and her Husband Reggie, she would not lose another member of her family. Her eyes tighten with sternness and directed her comment to Phillip, “You find my son, god damn, you!”

“Carl and Henry keep her safe,” Shane said after ensuring his handgun was locked and loaded. “Phil, you take them high, I’ll take them low.” Phillip nods, he quickly scanned the adjacent properties and noticed an entry point to the roof. Phillip darts towards the home behind them, making sure to stay low. He noticed that a window ledge was thirteen feet above him. Phillip Marco used his supreme agility and strength to scale the wall. Once he made it to the window ledge, he used the same momentum to crash through the glass window.

Shane was confident Phillip would make it to the top, so he changed his focus back to the group pursuing Rick. Rick was doing a decent job at defense, managing to clip off a few of Carter’s henchmen. Like a prowler, Shane crept between houses, making sure to avoid Carter’s group. As he crept, he noticed one of Carter’s foot soldiers was left behind the larger group. Planning to cause a diversion, Shane raised his pistol to fire, but hidden in the corner of the large Brownstone, Rick waited. Grimes appeared and quickly dove his hatchet’s blade in the man’s brain. Before the man could fall, Rick darted off again.

_It’s good to see you haven’t gone completely soft, Rick,_ thought Shane. Shane smirked with pride watching his former friend still take on Carter’s group seemingly alone. Rick continued his assault, whenever he could; he would pick off a few of Carter’s fighters with silent axe attacks. Rick saw another opportunity, Rick saw a female fighter, holding a baseball bat, and Rick decided to take her hostage, figuring Carter’s allies wanted him. Rick blindsides the young woman, using his axe handle to disable the Her.

Rick grabbing his hostage, he places his blade to her throat, “Call your friends,” Rick said with an acid burning growl.

“Help! Help!” a female voice cried out, Shane noticed it and immediately headed in that direction. He was sure Rick wasn’t far away and Shane’s suspicions were confirmed quickly. Shane saw Rick, holding the woman in a rear choke hold with his hatchet blade dangerously close to her throat.

“Come on, I’m right here!” screamed Rick. The plan was simple, Rick would lure Carter’s group out of hiding, once they appear, he would use his hostage as a shield while using his revolver to clear the rest of the fighters. Rick suspected there were only a few left; he had already killed four, personally.

“No more running, Rick,” Carter announced, armed with his hand gun and six other men. “It’s time for you to ANSWER for what you’ve done to us! “

“I ain’t running,” Rick said with intensity, though the blade remained around his hostage’s throat, his left hand remained on his revolver.

“Let her go, Rick. Or are you a coward?” Carter and his crew got closer to Rick as the Sherriff continued to back away with his hostage.

“ ** ** _I’m_**** the coward but you’re the man with a squad of gunmen,” replied Rick. “Guess you ain’t got the stones to face me yourself.”

“Do you think you got me all figured out, Rick?” replied Carter, condescendingly. “Do you know what I’m going to do next?”

“Die,” replied Rick, with ire in his voice.

“Not quite,” Carter coyly replied, “but you’re getting warmer.” With his gun, Carter fired a bullet into the head of Rick’s hostage. “Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

_Naw, he didn’t, thought_ Shane, _but I did._ Shane immediately fired a chain of bullets at Carter and his group, connecting with three of them. Carter himself attempts to dodge the fire but bullets from above rained on him, striking him in the shoulder. Carter makes a sharp left and abandons his men who are mowed down by Rick and Shane’s gunfire.

Shane joins Rick who delivers a final blow to the brain of Carters gunmen killed by Shane. After Rick brained his last man, his eyes darted over to Shane, still holding his hand gun. The heat between the two men roared in each other’s chest, but they both remain silent. The warmth of their glare was intense, but both realize they were in a temporary truce. No words were needed.

“He ran away,” Phillip said from above, on the roof of an adjacent home. With one drop Phillip landed on his feet about a 15-foot drop and only appeared mildly startled. “What a pussy.”

“He won’t get far,” added Rick.

“No shit, Rick,” said Shane, “we’re all trapped in here.”

Rick rolled his eyes at Shane, “He was hit. Probably never been shot before. He’s somewhere hurt.”

“Good, I’ll finish the job,” Phillip collected one of his bowie knives that sat at his waist. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. Shane, check on the kiddos and Deanna.”

“You check on them yourself, besides, we need to stick together,” declared Shane.

Phillip let out a condensing scoff, “Yeah, I’m _not_ doing that. I’ll be back with Carter’s head, I’ll even let it reanimate. To add a little more flair.” Phillip’s eyes scanned to the ground where Phillip notices drops of blood on the pavement. _Eureka,_ thought Phillip. Finding Carter would be easier than he thought.

Shane figured it would be easier to just let Phillip go, he remembered what happened the last time he tried to stop Phillip when his mind was made.

***

As Phillip followed Carter’s blood trail and bloody footsteps he felt someone following him. Phillip continued to follow. he noticed another set of footprints, slightly bigger that joined Carter. “Well that’s interesting,” Phillip said to himself. The soldier also noticed that the two prints eventually separate. Phillip knew he could find Carter easily so he decided to pursuit the accomplice first.

Alexandria was made of many rowhomes and brownstones, typical for many east coast properties. Hidden between the rowhomes lead a narrow alley. The second pair of bloody prints leads there. Led only by his knife, Phillip entered the alley. Phillip believed his hearing was more powerful than his sight, so he closed his eyes as he walked through the alley.

He slowly walked through the alley, eyes shut and listened to nature and waited for his sign. _There!_ Phillip quickly reaches in a shadowy corner of the alley and grabs a male form. When he opened his eyes he saw a cowering Spencer. Spencer towered an entire seven inches higher than Phillip, but Phillip was far more powerful and Spencer knew it.

“Please don’t kill me, please,” begged Spencer. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know he would take it this far.”

“But you knew he would take it somewhere, didn’t you,” Phillip replied.

“He said he just wanted to take it back,” confessed Spencer, his eyes moist with tears and sweat. “He said this was _our_ place and then Rick ruined it. You said it yourself! You said that Rick was a monster.”

“That was a totally d _ifferent_ situation,” Phillip countered. “I wanted to keep my friends safe, you were planning an insurrection. A _poorly executed_ insurrection, might I add. You got Deanna shot, you’ve could have gotten yourself killed. What in the fuck were you thinking?”

Phillips words rained down on Spencer, he had no rebuttal. His tall, lurching form coward at Phillip’s forcefulness. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

“Well tough titty, _it did_ ” replied Phillip. “See what happens when you make deals with the devil.”

Spencer quickly grabs Phillip’s hand and frantically begs, “Please help me, if Rick find’s me---”

“He’s going to castrate you, I know,” replied Phillip.

“You have to help, Phillip. You can’t let Rick---”

“---Oh shut up with the belly aching,” Phillip was annoyed that Spencer felt so comfortable passing his dysfunction to him. “First off, I’m doing this for Deanna, not you. Don’t go thinking just because I allowed you to be with me that I _like_ you or something. Do me a favor, take off your shoes and head towards the infirmary. And don’t get caught!”

“Thank you, Phillip, Thank you,” Spencer scanned their surroundings quickly before attempting to kiss Phillip but was stopped by Phillip’s right palm.

“There will be none of _that_ ,” Phillip said coldly. “Get your ass to the infirmary. And don’t _fucking_ -caught!”

Shane and Rick scowled at each other for a few seconds, but it was Deanna who got them reoriented, “Are you going to help me or let me just bleed out?” complained Deanna, who was held up by Carl and Henry.

“We gotta get you to the infirmary, now,” replied Rick. “Shane, help me with her.”

“I won’t ever help _you_ , Rick,” replied Shane.

“ _Real mature,_ Shane,” replied Phillip “ _Carl,_ give me that arm.”

Shane was offended, he did not like that Phillip was aligning himself with Rick in any degree. Shane felt that Phillip was supposed to continue to side with _whatever_ Shane said against Rick. Shane’s pettiness hadn’t softened, he still hated Rick immensely. Rick had robbed him of years with Judith. Then it dawned on Shane, he came up with the best idea ever.

“I’m going to keep looking for Carter. Wouldn’t want him to sneak a shot at one of us now _would we_?” Shane eye brows rose as he strutted pass Rick.

Rick could hear Phillip whisper the word: “Asshole.” “Good friend,” taunted Grimes.

“He has his shortcomings. We all do,” replied Phillip.

“How bad is it?” asked Deanne, started to become weaker from blood loss.

“Not sure yet, we get you to the infirmary and Denise and I can check you out. Just a few more yards,” lied Phillip. Rick, Phillip, and Deanna were many yards from the infirmary, Phillip wasn’t confident how lethal Deanna’s wounds were. In the blue Virginia sky were five green balloons fluttering peacefully. Rick recognized the balloons, it was the same balloons they used during the Quarry Walkers Mission.

“It’s Glenn!” cried out Maggie and glee. But before she could celebrate, reality hit in. Due to the hundreds of walkers pressing against Alexandria’s wall, the makeshift watchtower began to become compromised. And without warning the tower fell to the ground, breaking the east wall and the six hundred walkers invaded the Alexandria safe zone.

YmF


End file.
